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cordeliawhohung · 19 hours

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Soft Spot Dissection (Blood Soaked Cotton)

soft spot master list | links to answered asks | major spoilers for the series if you haven't read it, this is me picking apart my writing as a personal project <3

Welcome! First, I’d like to mention that I have no idea what I’m doing with this dissection. I’m attempting to put it in an essay-like format for ease of reading, but trying not to make it too essay-like so that it’s boring, ya know? A lot of this is going to be me just… copying and pasting paragraphs and then talking about it. So, just pretend that this is some really thought out opening paragraph and that I’ve got a killer thesis sentence and that this isn’t just some half-cracked author venting about her work. Capiche? Thanks.

Anyway, we come to the first installment of Soft Spot: Blood Soaked Cotton. I’ve mentioned this a few times before, but this whole series actually started out as a one shot. Hence the rather… odd name. Believe it or not, but I actually really dislike the title Soft Spot. It’s just… not me. Not how I like naming things. It was a title I panic chose when I realized I wanted to write more. If I had the opportunity to change it, I’d honestly go with Everything You Touch. Fits the vibe more, in my opinion. But that’s beside the point.

Anyway, it’s so jarring to read this story. I haven’t really actually sat down and read any of the parts after I posted them, and it’s crazy to start out with Simon and Spook not knowing one another. Just… strangers. Had I known this was going to be a longer series, I wouldn’t have started it out the way I did. With the little internal monologue with Simon. It works, in a way, and I don’t know what I would’ve changed it to, but it wouldn’t have been this.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Really, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. But things never exactly work out how we think they will, and Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises.”

Just sounds… so flat, compared to how I started every other part lmao.

Have a good one. It was always the same farewell you gave him. Of course the factitious answer that came to mind was ‘have a good one what?’ but he knew better than to be a smart ass. But really, the question truly was a valid one in his mind. Have a good what? Day? Afternoon? Life? He was too far gone for that.

I based Simon’s facetious answer off of something my old co-worker’s husband used to say. I hated him. He was a prick. But it’s the type of bluntness I thought Simon would hold lmao. But then Simon’s thought, of him being too far gone for a good life, was sorta done intentionally when I wrote it. Because he’s supposed to see that he can have a good life when he meets Spook (:

It tore the delicate skin of your bottom lip vertically, nearing the corner of your mouth. Dark, crunchy scabs clogged the wound up, and he could tell by the way your tongue kept prodding at it that it smarted something fierce. But it didn’t stop there. A slight bruise on the back part of your cheekbone, an even deeper bruise peeking out from underneath your blouse on your collarbone, a broken nail that chipped off uncomfortably close to your nail bed.

Re: Referencing Spook’s injuries. I wish I had referred back to this, her wounds, in Everything You Touch. I think the parallels would’ve been heartbreaking. Hindsight is 20/20 or whatever. Especially because in this first installment, Simon is haunted by Spook. Constantly sees her injuries, and it chases after him worse than anything he’s seen in the field sorta thing. Oh well.

It used to be white, but had been stained by various things over the years he had it, and it even sported some fraying on the edges. It was clean, at least. Because of this, he was extremely surprised to hear your response to him. “I’ll ruin it.”

Re: Simon giving Spook his handkerchief when her lip started to bleed. Her comment here, I’ll ruin it. Although unintentional, it gives the impression that she’s always, in some sort of way, been afraid of filth. She’s always feared the rot inside of her and of transferring it to someone else, like she’s sick with some disease. Sort of makes her obsession with being clean later in the series a bit more understandable. These were just the very first few hints of it.

“Figured you’d need another one after I ruined the one you gave me,” you said, wiggling it in your hands for him to take. “You also strike me as a dog person, so this seemed fitting.”

Re: Spook giving Simon a new handkerchief a few weeks/days/whatever later. This is so funny to me. You also strike me as a dog person. Be so for real right now. As if you didn’t bring home a gooey pile of cat a few years later. As if that weird freak doesn’t grow into being Simon’s best bud. I love them.

October brought in a sharp chill to the air that had you wearing a nice knitted sweater to help stave off the draft in the building. Its dark background with popping jack-o-lantern theme matched perfectly with your area of the bank. Despite it only being halfway through the month you had already prepared for Halloween with a bowl of candy sitting on the counter and themed jelly stickers on the window behind you.

Though it was never explicitly said, Halloween is Spook’s favorite holiday (: Which is unfortunate. Keep this in mind.

“Must be neat,” you said in awe. “Despite all the military stuff, anyway. I bet you get to travel the world and see so many neat things. I’d kill for an opportunity like that… no pun intended.”

I wrote this pun on accident and then reread the sentence and was like wow. A bit on the nose but I’m keeping this.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you said softly, head returning to lean against your hand as you looked up at him. Even sitting next to him he was still so much bigger than you. “Honestly, I thought you were going to say no. Doesn’t really seem like your type of place so… just know I appreciate it.” What gave that impression? His tense shoulders? Or his eyes flickering around the room at least twenty times every minute like he was constantly on edge? “Don’t mention it,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. You smiled something soft, something fleeting as your eyes dropped down to look at his hands clasped around the cup of water. He hadn’t taken a single sip of it the entire time the two of you sat there. Not that you had expected him to, anyway. Certainly not with that mask of his. Maybe some time in the future you’d ask him about it, but that moment wasn’t the right time.

Rereading this, I think Spook has a love for broken things just as much as Simon does. Which is why she’s so drawn to him, despite his appearances. Which is why he lets her get close even though he knows it’s not a good idea. They’re both sad, broken people. And in a way, they’ve been sort of disconnected from “normal” people. It’s hard for Spook to find a partner who understands her situation. It’s hard for Simon to find a partner who can handle his aloofness. So when they find each other? It’s only natural that they’re so impossibly drawn to one another.

You slipped away before he could protest that idea, and he grumbled as he pushed his cup of water towards the end of the bar. Shitty music filled his ears as he sat there waiting for you, and without your voice to drown out the commotion around him, it consumed him. Sharp crack of the billiard balls crashing together, the scent of greasy pub pizza, the ringing of a bell as the door opened, the chilling October breeze bleeding into the building, the stale scent of cigarettes.

Though it’s only hinted at minorly, Eric, Spook’s ex, was a smoker. Hence the smell of cigarettes that’s mentioned here as the door opens. This is where Eric enters and starts to make a fuss. Etc etc etc.

Then came the sound of flesh crashing against flesh as the palm of your hand slapped the man across the face. It was enough to grab the attention of everyone in the surrounding area, including the bartender who looked like he was one bad comment away from dialing 999. “Get your fucking hands off of me,” you seethed. Unfortunately for you, the slap hardly seemed to phase him, and his grip only tightened. The man’s jaw set taut as his other hand came up and grabbed your waist with bruising force, drawing you closer to him as he bared his teeth in a snarling grin.

Okay. OKAY. Everyone listen up!!! The entire story? Yeah? And Spook’s trauma? There’s this whole motif that I — quite frankly — abused the fuck out of. It’s violence. This whole, trying to break the cycle, of knowing violence, of experiencing violence, things of that sort. And then what do we get? Spook being violent. Spook is the first character throughout the entire series to ever show violence. To hit someone. To demand something of them. Sure, Eric fucking deserves it, and she was obviously beaten before, but that doesn’t change the fact she is the first character to be explicitly violent. (:

This was done by accident. Something that I came across while re-reading and it just hits so hard. Almost like it’s hinting at something terrible. That no matter how hard she tries to distance herself from her abusive past, it’s too ingrained in her DNA for her to escape it.

It was disgusting. The very sight of that man with his hands on you like he had won a prize. Greedy fingers digging into your flesh like he planned to take, and take, and take. Simon had seen it all before. Seen it in his own flesh as unwanted hands clawed at him. Felt it on his face in the form of a vile, wet tongue swiping around his mouth. It was in the screams he couldn’t hold back as the hook tore through his flesh. It was in the blood that spilled down his body as he hung there while they laughed. It was in the maggots that he sat in as he was buried alive. It was- It was the pain he felt in his hand as his knuckles collided with the man’s jaw, snapping his head to an uncomfortable angle. In an instant his body went rigid and then limp. Those revolting hands fell away from you as his body collided with the floor beneath him, and the only sound he was able to make was a fit of air leaving his lungs upon impact.

Here we have Simon essentially blacking out. Of seeing Spook’s trauma and realizing that they aren’t so different. I think that’s what ultimately attracted him to her in the first place. The fact that she wasn’t just broken, but she was like him. Even if he didn’t fully know it yet. Their pasts had been intertwined in some disgusting, twisted way this entire time, and I think this is the moment he starts to realize it.

Never before had he been so glad to harm someone. Any other time it was a necessity. Saving himself. Saving a comrade. Nothing that he ever took pleasure or joy in. It was just work. But that? Hurting that man the way he did? He took joy in that.

Another accidental thing I did here, but I totally forgot about this paragraph. Of Simon enjoying what he did to Eric (kicking his ass). Makes the conversation Spook and Bukin have later in the series all the more terrifying. Specifically:

“I think he likes the blood and the gore of violence. There is something comforting about spilling blood knowing that it lessens the chance of your own being poured. He finds safety in death. And while I can appreciate the sentiment, I never really had the stomach for blood. No, I prefer to watch things squirm.”

Once again, this started off as a one shot, and I never reread this fucking part while writing so this is all by accident but it makes my stomach churn in a way I can’t describe lmao.

“See you next week, Simon.” That was the moment that he decided he liked the way his name sounded when you said it. You never barked it like an order, or screamed it in anger. He had hated his name for a long while, hated being called anything other than his callsign for work. But when it came from your lips, well, maybe it wasn’t all that terrible. “Yeah,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. The band-aids pulled awkwardly at his skin as he paused on the porch of your apartment. “See you next week.”

There’s something to be said about this farewell. It’s why I referenced it again in the epilogue in the synopsis. I think it’s the first goodbye that they say to one another that they don’t really want to say. Because they — whether they realize it or not — are already so terribly attached to one another. And honestly, I wish I had ended the part here rather than going further into detail. I felt like I was over explaining it. Everything is already right here.

Anyway; that’s about everything I have for this part. I know it’s not a whole lot, but like I mentioned before, this was supposed to be a one shot, so this part doesn’t have a whole lot of… meaning behind it. Besides the few accidents that I found, anyway lmao. As always, feel free to send any questions about the work my way! Things I didn’t cover in this part that you’re still curious about, things of that sort!

#core talks #soft spot #soft spot dissection

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nana2capriccio · 7 months

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[ Kiryu - Yubikiri - English Translation ]

己龍 - ユビキリ [Pinkie-promise]

JP Lyrics: Mitsuki Sakai and Hiyori Isshiki | EN Translation: meeeee

Notes: This song came on earlier today and i realised how sweet the lyrics are...so i wanted to translate it lol that's it enjoy! again more notes at the end!

We made a promise with our pinkie fingers That even in pain we would find joy Even now... I want to stay as we were that day

Cut strips of paper and twist them together A night spent winding our red strings Someday...will it ever reach your finger? 1

You pretend not to see the trails of incense I've placed around me

Immorality, sin, remorse You pretend to ignore these aphrodisiacs that drip with desire

My shadow, your shadow Untouched by the light of the waning moon

Dozing off, you fall into a dream, just as I'm waking up in reality

The scene is set, [wo]man of my dreams 2 3

Goodnight, sleep tight, we made a pinkie-promise

You of the "past", "present", and "future"... welcome to my night

As thousands of tears are pouring down Let's thread the needle with our red strings

Ouch... ouch... ouch... my finger... 4

Look, look

"We pinkie-promised"

Today once more, I'm embracing empty space Waiting here for you 5

Just the two of us alone, counting the spots on the ceiling as we wait

To my beloved, 3

Lost in a dream Guided by the red string that connects us

Drip, drip... our dripping love has not dried up 6

Welcome to my life

To my eternal love,

Goodnight, sleep tight, we made a pinkie-promise

You of the "past", "present", and "future"... Welcome to my night

1: you may know this already, but this is referring to the "red string of fate" legend in east asian cultures that says all people are connected to their soulmates by an invisible red string tied to each person's pinkie finger, which you can only see once you've met them. the reason this string is tied to the pinkie is the same reason we make "pinkie-promises" (which is the title of the song): because in the pinkie finger is an artery that leads all the way to the heart, so if you link this finger with someone else's, you're basically touching hearts.

2: this line literally says "the person i saw in a dream", but since we have a similar phrase in english i supplemented that. although idk what the speaker's gender is supposed to be since some kiryu songs have female speakers and some male, so....sorry

3: note that the 3 is on multiple lines, this is an untranslatable "pun" because the word for "backdrop/scenery/setting" is pronounced exactly the same way as Japanese people use to start a letter, like writing "Dear Name," . idk if it has some deeper meaning, just know that these lines are started with the same pronunciation but different words.

4: I'mso sorry this sounds cringe LMAO. buuut the word for "finger" here is written in katakana, the same way as "pinkie-promise" is written, so it's specifically talking about the finger used to make the promise.

5: i couldn't make this sound poetic enough....i'm sorry....the meaning is that the speaker kept the space between their arms empty i.e. never found another love, since they were hoping that someday their lover would return to fill the space

6: literally says "our dripping, non-dry love", I think the point is that even though their lover is gone, the speaker didn't let the love dry up, and they're saying they still have love to give in case the lover ever returns

#kiryu #kiryu band #nana's translations #visual kei #vkei #己龍 #yubikiri

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spyroforlife · 7 months

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Legend of Malefor

Long ago, a rare purple dragon named Malefor was banished from the Dragon lands for his desperate lust for power. Betrayed and angry, he sought to bring ruin to the world, having come to believe his destiny was to destroy this world to allow a new, better one to be born in its place. But though his heart was full of hatred, he did once allow love in as well, and this decision altered both his own fate and the fate of the world. It wasn't mere coincidence that a new purple egg eventually came to be. This is the tale of Malefor failing to fulfill what he thought to be his destiny, reconsidering the story of his life, and choosing for himself how he wants his story to continue. Rating: General Audiences Chapters: 10 Word Count: 13,608

Yeah I uploaded the old fic I talked about here to AO3 because I could. I did revisions to pretty much every chapter, not just for grammar, but I ended up expanding a lot on some of Malefor's thoughts as well as better explaining some things in general, just because. Idk there was a lotta funkiness to the writing and I just didn't want to leave it like that lmao. I linked to the original of each chapter at the end so people are welcome to go look at the og 2010 writing in all its glory.

so yeah this is like. Obviously I don't need any criticism on what sucks because I know. It's from thirteen years ago. I know :') I'm just sharing it now for fun. Even the title is super unoriginal and a product of its time. But heyy I still have a soft spot for this fic so I'm leaving it like it is haha. For anyone who does decide to check it out, enjoy <3

#legend of spyro #spyro #malefor #writing #my writing #my old writing

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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 2 years

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hear those bells ring: chapter 5 (a bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo and Reader settle into their new agreement as healer and patient. (This is basically 2k of Kiri teasing Bakugo, and 8k of slow-burn terrible flirting. I will die on the hill that even as an adult Bakugo hasn't learned how to talk to women lmao)

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Adult language.

A/N: Heyyyyy sorry it's been so long lol. I got covid a few months back, immediately followed by a completely separate health scare (i'm fine) and just have not found the energy or motivation to do anything besides nap, watch tv, and doom scroll after I clock out from my job :p

But I got bit by the creative bug yesterday, so here's a 10k chapter haha.

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 3 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 4 Tumblr Link: Here

“You’re here early. Hoping to see a certain someone?”

Bakugo immediately scowled as he stepped off the elevator and came face to face with a grinning Red Riot, who was in the casual sweatpants and tank combo that he usually slept in.

“I told you to drop that shit last night, idiot,” the blond said as he stomped past his partner. “And you’re here earlier than me, so shut up.”

“But see, I have an excuse, because I never left. I just crashed in one of the rooms.” Kirishima jogged to catch up with him, and the redhead wouldn’t wipe the infuriating smirk off his lips. “You, on the other hand, went home, got, what, maybe four hours of sleep? And then came in particularly early, on a day you’re not supposed to be here until noon. Why’s that, Bakubro?”

Bakugo felt his eyebrow twitch, and he curled his hands into fists and stuffed them into the pockets of his bomber jacket to keep them from sparking. But it was hard not to slap his palm against his friend’s face and light it up, because the bastard had teased him all night long during their patrol.

The blond should have known it would come up after he insisted on picking you up, but he had hoped Kirishima would just take his bald faced lie about wanting to “apologize” to you in private and clean up his image a bit.

Unfortunately, Shitty Hair had known him too long and immediately called him out on his bullshit.

Apologize? You? Do you even know that word? And clean up your image? Who are you and what have you done to Katsuki Bakugo?

Then, when Bakugo snapped and told him to just shut up and drop it, Kirishima’s eyes had gone wide before a devious smirk stretched across his lips.

Holy shit. You like her.

Of course, Bakugo had scoffed at the idea like it was ridiculous—because it was ridiculous—and said that you were just some stupid extra he didn’t even know, and he was only trying to keep you from running and crying to the media about him being the ass that blew up your grandparent’s legacy shop.

But Kirishima just couldn’t leave well enough alone, and he’d badgered the blond hero with questions about what the two of you had done and talked about after Bakugo picked you up. It didn’t help matters that Bakugo had shown up thirty minutes later than the time he’d promised to meet the redhead on their patrol, but it wasn’t his fucking fault you were a self-sacrificing idiot who apparently liked to starve herself.

Mentioning the food had been his biggest mistake. Because once Kirishima knew the blond had bought you food and taken you to one of their patrol lookout spots, the redhead was insufferable.

Fuck, dude, you really like her. I can count on one hand the number of dates you’ve been on in the last several years, and you bought food for none of those women. Let alone taking them to a romantic spot that overlooks the city.

The idiot was looking at it all wrong. Bakugo didn’t go on dinner dates because he found the whole making small talk between bites to be lethally tedious. Meeting a woman for drinks was much easier, the woman usually didn’t have as many expectations. Which was good, because Bakugo didn’t do serious relationships. Well, he didn’t do casual ones either, but sometimes, usually after a particularly shitty fight, he had a particular itch to scratch, and most women weren’t about to turn down a night of passion with Japan’s Number Two hero. But that was usually all it was, one night, because Bakugo had more important things to deal with and didn’t need some needy fangirl blowing up his phone every day.

But none of that even fucking mattered, because he didn’t take you on a date. He bought himself food and gave you some so that you wouldn’t pass out when he interrogated you. He had just needed answers, it wasn’t like he particularly gave a damn about the bruised circles under your eyes or how your face looked a little too pale when he picked you up.

And the lookout spot hadn’t been romantic. It was just the first place he could think of where the two of you could be alone and eat, because like he’d told you, he wasn’t going to let you ruin his leather seats with greasy fingers.

Bakugo’s decisions were always practical. Kirishima was just reading too much into shit.

“Yo, Bakubroooooo…”

Speaking of…

“What?” the blond growled as he snapped out of his thoughts. When he looked up, he realized he and Kirishima were standing in his office, next to his desk which was strewn with papers.

“Have you heard a word I said, or have you just been daydreaming about you-know-who?” Kirishima asked with a shit-eating grin, and then he immediately ducked and yelped as Bakugo chucked the nearest object at him, which turned out to be some stupid paperweight that just showed up on the blond’s desk one day. “Broooo, not cool.”

“Stop crying, I didn’t even hit you,” Bakugo scoffed. “You can harden yourself anyway, idiot. Now, did you actually have something you needed to talk to me about, or are you just running your fuckin’ mouth?”

“So mean, Kacchan,” the redhead pouted, because he knew that name always got under Bakugo’s skin.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes and blindly reached for the next nearest item on his desk, but Red Riot threw up his arms in an X over his face, his skin preemptively rippling with his hardening quirk.

“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice, but then he poked his head out from behind his arms, glanced out the glass walls of Bakugo’s office, and smirked. “In fact, I think I see a better conversation partner right now.”

Bakugo frowned and followed the redhead’s line of sight, and a weird sensation wriggled through his chest.

You were standing uncertainly near the elevators, shifting from foot to foot and wringing the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing in your hands. In all honestly, you looked a little ridiculous. Well, your hair was brushed and orderly, and your face looked pink and freshly washed. He couldn’t tell for sure from this distance, but he thought you were even wearing a bit of makeup. Not too much, but enough to put a little color in your cheeks and brighten your eyes, so from the neck up, you looked acceptable.

The neck down was what looked ridiculous.

Your short frame was practically drowning in the clothes you were wearing, which were the merch items he and Kirishima had given you yesterday. They hadn’t known your sizes, so Kirishima sized up to be safe, and apparently he went too far. The orange, green, and black Dynamight sweatshirt hung almost to your knees, the neckline gaping a little around the jut of your collarbones. The hoodie clashed horribly with the Red-Riot chibi pajama bottoms, which were a bright crimson with stupid tiny Kirishimas all over them, but the pants at least matched the Red-Riot fuzzy socks peeking out the way-too long hems that pooled around your feet.

Bakugo felt a twinge of jealousy that you were wearing two pieces of Kirishima’s merch and only one of his, but he immediately squashed the thought into a deep corner of his brain and set it on fire because what the fuck? Why should he care?

He didn’t. He was just… fucking tired. He’d only gotten a couple of hours of sleep last night. Not because he was thinking of you or anything. Just… about how your quirk could, and would, help him in the future.

“Well, doesn’t she look pretty?” Kirishima muttered and violently tugged Bakugo from his thoughts.

A flare of heat ignited in his chest, but the blond told himself it was just irritation at being involved in this dumbass conversation.

“Pretty stupid,” he found himself saying, but even that didn’t stop Kirishima from throwing him a smirk.

“Maybe you should go grab some coffee or a nap or something, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” he said as he straightened up and ran a hand through his spiky hair. “And I’ll go wish our guest a good morning.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo snapped, but the redhead only laughed before he left the office and walked across the bullpen area to reach you.

Bakugo scowled after his friend and watched as he called out to you with a friendly wave. Some of the nervous uncertainly drained from your face when you saw the red-haired hero, and you even smiled at him as he stopped in front of you.

The blond stood there staring at the two of you as he tried to figure out his next course of action. On the one hand, if he walked up to you now, Kirishima would be sending him not-so-subtle looks and smirks, which might just push Bakugo over the edge this morning.

But on the other hand, he didn’t want to retreat and get coffee or whatever Kirishima suggested because the bastard would also use that as ammunition for his next teasing streak.

Also, there had been a reason Bakugo came in so early when he should have been catching a few more hours of sleep. After you agreed to help him last night, he didn’t have time to ask you all the questions swirling around his head because Kirishima had started to blow up the blond’s phone, so the two of you quickly finished your dinners before Bakugo sped over to the agency, unceremoniously dropped you off with his PR manager, and then left to go on his patrol.

But his questions had kept him up half the night. How did you quirk work? How were you able to heal something, seemingly without realizing it, that a doctor had told him hours previously would never work again? And if your quirk was so damn powerful, why the hell were you working as a damn seamstress, grandparents be damned?

It didn’t make any sense. And Bakugo hated when he didn’t know things.

Before he even made the conscious decision, his feet started moving for him, and his brain only caught up when your eyes locked on his over Kirishima’s shoulder.

Those same eyes widened, and Bakugo thought he saw your face go a little pink before Kirishima whirled around and grinned at him.

Bakugo wanted to punch out every one of his pointy, smug teeth.

“Wellllll, Bakubro, how nice of you to come say good morning to our guest,” the redhead drawled. “She was just telling me she slept well.”

“Did I ask?” The blond scowled, but then his eyes clicked over to you, and he saw you wince and swallow. God, you had the shittiest poker face. “Stitches.”

“G-Good morning, Dyn— uh, Bakugo,” you stuttered and cleared your throat, and the hero didn’t miss how you tacked on the “-sama” honorific again.

Kirishima’s sharp white grin was almost blinding in the blond’s peripherals. “Stitches, huh?”

“Shut up, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo said as he threw a glare at the redhead.

The bastard’s grin was so wide now it was about to crack his damn face in half, and he half covered his mouth as he learned toward you and stage whispered. “Don’t worry, his nicknames are a sign of affection.”

“O-Oh,” you muttered, and now you were definitely blushing as you glanced at the explosive hero and quickly looked away.

Bakugo was going to strangle his partner.

“Actually, Shitty Hair, I came up with the nicknames to drive you and all the extras away, but you were like leeches,” Bakugo sneered in an effort to save face, but the effect was ruined when Kirishima just threw his head back and laughed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said as he waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, by the way, Sero texted us about drinks this weekend. And, before you say something all manly like, ‘Like I care,’ I will remind you that it’s Denki’s birthday, and he’ll just cry and then sulk if you don’t show. So, it’s one night of drinks, or weeks of him pouting.”

Bakugo glared at him for several long, silent seconds. “I hate you. And Tapeface. And Dunceface.”

“Love you, too, bro,” Kirishima replied with a wink. “I’ll let them know we RSVPed.”

Movement in his peripherals suddenly caught the blond’s attention, and he turned to see you glancing between him and Kirishima with a slight smile on your lips.

Great. Now he looked like a sappy fucking idiot.

“Stiches,” he barked, which made you jump and face him completely with wide eyes. He realized belatedly that the nickname wasn’t helping his case with his annoying ass partner, but he knew using your real name would only be worse at this point.

“Y-Yes?”

“Have you eaten?” he asked and blatantly ignored Kirishima’s stupid face in the corner of his vision.

“Ahh, no,” you said as you started to shift nervously on your feet again. “I was, um, actually coming down to see if you guys, uh, had something for me, but I wasn’t expecting it or anything! I didn’t want to assume, but I can of course go get my own coffee and breakfast.”

“In that?” Bakugo cocked an eyebrow and gave a pointed look to your overly large and mismatched clothes.

Your cheeks flared red, the flush crawling down your neck and into the collar of your Dynamight hoodie. “My, uh, clothes were all kind of dusty from the… debris in my apartment, so I also wanted to ask if there was a laundry room I could utilize.”

“Of course—” Kirishima started to say before Bakugo cut him off.

“I’ll show you where it is.”

You blinked at him in surprise, as did Kirishima, but his surprise had an undercurrent of glee.

“Feel like playing tour guide, bro?” the redhead taunted, and his lips twitched as he very clearly fought back a smirk.

“Don’t you have a meeting with the extras?” Bakugo sneered and jerked his chin at the circle of sidekicks who were uncertainly standing around the edges of the bullpen area.

“Oh, shit— sorry, guys!” Kirishima shouted at the sidekicks with an apologetic wave. “You all can head into the conference room, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes as he stepped forward and past you, smacking the button for the elevator. He didn’t hear you move to follow him, but he refused to turn around and see his partner’s stupid, smirking face anymore, so he snapped over his shoulder as the elevator doors opened. “Well, are you coming, Stitches?”

“Oh! Sorry. Y-Yes, I’m coming. Um, see you later, Red— Kirishima.”

A moment later, you were shuffling into the elevator beside him, and Bakugo turned as the elevator doors started to close.

He unfortunately caught Kirishima shooting him a very obvious wink and finger-guns.

“See you two later!” the redhead yelled as the doors cinched shut, and then Bakugo was left staring at his own scowling reflection.

He was going to kick Kirishima’s ass the next time they sparred.

“Um, Bakugo,” you said after a moment of silence, tacking on the “-sama” honorific once again.

“Stop that,” he snapped irritably.

“Stop… what?” You blinked up at him and seemed to shuffle a few inches back until you were half-pressed into the elevator wall.

Bakugo prided himself on being the best hero there was, and part of that was striking fear into the hearts of idiot villains who would dare stand against him. But something about the spark of unease he saw in your gaze didn’t sit right with him, made something in his chest feel weird, and he huffed as he moved over and leaned against the opposite wall of the elevator.

He wasn’t giving you more room, he was just tired of standing upright.

“Stop the -sama shit,” he muttered as he glared off into the corner. “I don’t need you to blow hot air up my ass.”

“I’m… sorry if I’ve offended you,” you said, and he could hear the confusion in your voice even if he couldn’t see it on your face at the moment. “I— like I mentioned, I moved here not very long ago, so I’m still learning the social customs. I was just trying to be respectful.”

“You didn’t feel need to be so ‘respectful’ with Shitty Hair,” he pointed out as his eyes flicked back over to you. You’d only used the ‘-san’ honorific with the hardening hero, a detail that Bakugo isn’t sure why he noticed.

“Well, I— he seemed to want me to be more informal with him,” you stammered as you fidgeted under his crimson gaze. “Besides…”

“Besides what?” the blond pressed when you trailed off into silence.

You bit you lip and stared down at your feet, shuffling in your Red-Riot socks and open toed slippers. “Besides… you were the one who saved me— my neighborhood from that villain. I just wanted to show you my gratitude.”

Now, it was Bakugo’s turn to squirm with uncertainty. Citizens threw him praise all the time in the middle of disaster zones, but he was quick to brush them off and keep moving. Here, he was stuck in a small box with you, and he suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he shoved them into the pockets of his bomber jacket.

Then he realized with a start that he hadn’t pressed the fucking button to get the elevator moving, and he cursed under his breath as he jabbed his thumb into the panel.

The elevator jolted to life, and he saw you sway on your feet out of the corner of his eye. Silence descended over the pair of you as you transitioned floors, and when the doors dinged open, he strode through them without a backward glance.

“Come on, Stitches,” he called over his shoulder, and he heard your soft footsteps scurry after him down the tiled hallway.

“Wait… this is my floor,” you murmured after a moment, and he glanced back to see you looking around with a furrowed brow.

“No shit,” he said. “Didn’t you say you needed to do laundry?”

“O-Oh, right.” You nodded and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and he noticed that the hoodie you wore was so long, the sleeves swallowed almost the entirety of your hands. You kept pushing them over your wrists, like you couldn’t sit still, but the fabric just fell back into place every time.

“I— We can get you another one.”

What the fuck? What was he saying? Why was he talking?

“Another what?” you asked, looking up to meet his eyes, but then you gasped as you tripped over the hems of your too-long pants.

Bakugo caught your elbow without thinking, and he frowned as he remembered you falling out of his car last night.

“You really are fucking clumsy, aren’t you?” he grunted as he helped steady you on your feet.

“Sorry.” You blushed and quickly extracted yourself from his grip. “You can obviously see why I failed the entrance exam to the hero course. Twice. My dad always said I was blessed with a stronger version of my mother’s quirk because the universe knew I’d trip off a cliff and die otherwise. And my gift has certainly come in handy a number of times, as you know from, well…”

You stopped rambling and let out a nervous, tittering laugh before you seemed to catch yourself, and then you snapped your head up and darted an anxious look up and down the hall.

“Take a breath,” Bakugo said when he realized what got you so squirrely. “All the sidekicks are downstairs with Shitty Hair right now. But try and watch your words more carefully. We both got secrets, and I don’t need you blabbing about either of them.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” You winced and ducked your head.

Bakugo stared down at you. “You apologize too fucking much.”

“I’m so— um, I mean, I know. I’ll… try to stop.” You seemed to shrink into the collar of your Dynamight hoodie, and you wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Something about your cowering dog posture made his skin itch, and for some idiotic reason, Shitty Hair’s words from the other day floated through his head.

Be nice.

Bakugo scowled and looked away from you, down the hall. Then he took a deep breath and tried to recall every half-listened to piece of advice his PR manager had given to him over the years.

“Look,” he finally said at length, and he turned to face you fully. “I know this whole shit-fest situation isn’t ideal to you, but the agency is gonna have your little shop looking better than new in a few weeks, and I’m not gonna turn you or any of your little patients into the cops or immigration. And I don’t know what you’ve heard on the damn news or online, but I only hurt shitheads who deserve it. Disregarding the fact that hurting you world be stupid since I need your quirk, I’m not a fuckin’ monster. So stop looking like I’m gonna hit you.”

You gaped at him for a solid ten seconds, your mouth opening and closing, but Bakugo suddenly didn’t want to hear what you had to say in response to his sappy rant, so he turned to lead you down the hallway again.

“Come—”

“I… didn’t think you would hit me.”

Your words drew him up short, and he paused midstride, glancing back over his shoulder. Your cheeks flushed under his intense gaze, but you met his eyes this time, and your voice when you continued came out steady.

“I didn’t think you would hit me,” you repeated as you maintained eye contact. “I just… don’t want to annoy you. You’re already doing so much for me, with taking me in and fixing the shop, I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am.”

“Who said you were a burden?” Bakugo scowled. “Don’t be putting words in my mouth. My agency is well-off. We can afford to feed you for a few damn weeks, and fixing your shop is nothing.”

That was a little bit of a lie. Bakugo had to listen to his accountants bitch and moan over the expenses he’d racked up in the last week, but you didn’t need to know that.

“I’m—” You bit you lip and stopped midsentence, and by your wince Bakugo could tell you were biting back another apology. After a moment, you managed to affix a smile to your face, and the blond noticed it was a little crooked. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. From what I’ve seen, the agency looks amazing, but I guess I should have expected nothing less from Japan’s Number Two hero.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes on you. He couldn’t tell if you were trying to patronize him or not, but he couldn’t deny he felt a thrill of pride at you complimenting the agency he built up from nothing using just his blood, sweat, and tears.

“Damn straight,” he finally huffed before he jerked his chin down the hall. “Now, hurry up and grab your clothes. I don’t have all day.”

“Oh.” You blinked in surprise when you realized you were several feet from your door. Then you startled into action, hurrying past him and patting your pockets until you let out another nervous laugh. “Oops. Forgot there’s no key. I always lock my apartment even when I’m just downstairs in the shop, left over habit from growing up in America, but Japan’s actually been much safer so far. Well… excluding the other night I guess…”

Fuck, you really liked to babble. It reminded him of Deku, but for some reason, you weren’t as annoying when you did it.

“Is that a problem?” Bakugo suddenly found himself asking without meaning to, and when you looked up at him with a confused expression, he felt the need to clarify. “The no key thing? We can get you a lock or something. If you need one.”

Great. Now your rambling was brushing off on him. That, coupled with his lack of sleep, was the only explanation as to why the fuck he was asking these stupid ass questions.

“Oh, no, I’m fine!” You immediately waved him off as you opened the door. “I mean, what safer place is there than a hero agency, right? Let alone Dynamight and Red Riot’s agency. Like I said, just a habit, but I’ll get used to it.”

Bakugo grunted noncommittally, and you stared at him for a minute before you jumped.

“Right, let me just… grab my stuff,” you muttered as you started to slip through the door. “I��ll be back in a moment.”

Bakugo opened his mouth to ask if you needed help, but then caught himself, wondering why the fuck he was trying to be so accommodating.

Fortunately, you didn’t see the internal war on his face because you slipped into your room and clicked the door shut behind you, leaving him standing alone in the hallway with what sounded like Kirishima snickering in the back of his head.

He really needed a fucking nap.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You really needed a fucking drink. Or several. Were bars even open this early in the morning?

Not that you could even go to one. Because apparently you were about to do your laundry with Pro Hero Dynamight.

A strangled noise rose up in the back of your throat at the ridiculousness of your situation, followed by a blush that covered your whole face as you leaned back against your closed door and took a deep breath.

This whole situation was turning out to be a nightmare. In more ways than one.

Firstly, you hated relying on anyone for any type of help. Maybe that was unhealthy, but that was just how you were. So, having to rely on others for shelter, food, bills, and other necessities like just clean damn clothes was already bad enough.

Then there was the stupid dream you had last night.

You couldn’t remember most of it, which was a blessing, but you did remember flashes of pale, scarred skin, the smell of caramelizing sugar, and a deep voice groaning your name.

You didn’t know who to blame more: your traitorous mind or body. Sure, he had saved you, technically not purposefully, and yeah, it had been… a while since you had any intimate experience with someone, and sadly even longer since you went on a nice date, but you logically knew Pro Hero Dynamight hadn’t taken you out on a date. He bought himself food, gave you some probably so you didn’t pass out, and then brought you to a private location to pry the truth about your quirk out of you. And maybe there had been a few nice, comfortable minutes of silence after that interrogation, where the two of you just finished your dinners quietly while looking out over the city. But that didn’t mean what your lonely body and mind wanted it to mean, and you berated yourself for being so reactive. You’d been blushing, stumbling, and fumbling over your words all morning, to the point where Bakugo thought you were afraid of him.

And maybe you had been a little afraid when you first met him, but now you were just on edge, trying not to be so stupidly obvious even though, as the blond had pointed out many times, your poker face was awful.

So awful that even Kirishima had noticed.

You groaned and dropped your face into your hands as you recalled the sly smirks and looks the redhead hero had thrown at his partner down on their main floor. He’d obviously been teasing the blond, so the hardening hero had obviously clocked your awkwardness and blushes, which was just mortifying.

How were you going to survive the next several weeks?

“Stitches!” Bakugo suddenly pounded his fist against the door, making you jump. “Are you almost done? I’m growing fuckin’ old out here.”

“Sorry!” you shouted back reflexively and then cringed at the apology. “I’ve almost got everything, just a moment!”

You scrambled away from the door and toward your bed. The room they’d set you up in wasn’t very extravagant, but it was bigger than your bedroom back home, so you couldn’t complain. There was a small attached bathroom, no shower, but it had a toilet, sink, and mirror. A desk was shoved in the opposite corner, next to a wooden wardrobe, and a bed lay beneath the window across from the door.

Thankfully, you hadn’t even really tried to unpack after realizing your clothes were all dusty, so you just zipped the duffel bag up and hurriedly slung it over your shoulder. The extra weight off balanced you for a moment, but you righted yourself without falling and then grabbed your rolling suitcase.

When you yanked open your door, Bakugo was leaning against the opposite side of the hallway, with his arms crossed over his chest and his right leg hiked up behind him so the sole of his boot pressed into the wall. His black bomber jacket and dark jeans made his looming frame look lithe and compact, his pale hair and white t-shirt standing out in stark contrast, and you had the errant thought that he should have been a model instead of a hero.

No. Stop it.

“Fuckin’ finally,” the blond muttered as he shoved himself off the wall.

You quickly turned to close the door behind you, but when you turned back to face him, he was suddenly inches from you, the smell of burnt sugar almost cloying in your nose.

What kind of cologne did he wear? It was absolutely driving you insane.

“What—” you started to ask but were cut off when he suddenly slipped a finger under the strap on your shoulder and unceremoniously yanked the duffel bag right off you, much like he did when he picked you up the other night.

“You’ll be too slow carrying both of them,” he grunted, slinging the bag over his shoulder before he marched past you and further down the hall.

You ran to catch up to him, your rolling suitcase clattering along the tile behind you, and the blond slowed his pace until the two of you were side by side. Then he suddenly scowled down at you.

“Don’t go tripping again,” he said, glaring at your too-long pants. “After we throw your shit in the machine, I’ll get one of the interns to grab you clothes that actually fucking fit.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that,” you rushed to assure him.

“I’m not gonna be around all the time to keep you from faceplanting, Stitches.” He rolled his red eyes as he came to a stop in front of a door, grabbed the handle, and shouldered it open. “Last thing we need is for you to fuck yourself up on agency property.”

“It’s not like I’m going to sue you over me being clumsy.” You frowned as you followed him into what you quickly realized was the laundry room, given all the machines that lined the walls. “Besides, my quirk heals my own minor injuries usually in a twenty-four hour period. So, even if I did ‘fuck myself up,’ I’d be fine by the next day.”

“Why are you so goddamn stubborn?” Bakugo grumbled as he dumped your bag onto one of the folding tables.

“I’m not stubborn,” you argued, but when he cocked a pale eyebrow at you, you deflated and blushed. “I just… don’t want to be ungrateful. Or wasteful. I can hem the pants myself… well, once I have some new equipment. But I don’t need a new set. And…”

Here, you trailed off, your cheeks flaring with more heat, and Bakugo grunted with irritation.

“And what?” he asked as he stared at you with those intense crimson eyes.

“And… I like the sweatshirt,” you muttered, lifting your rolling suitcase onto the table beside the duffle so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “I mean, I-I like my sweatshirts a little bigger anyways. They’re more… comfy that way.”

Bakugo was silent for a moment too long, so you peeked up at him through your lashes and found him raking his gaze over you from head to toe. You were sure your cheeks were as red as stop signs now, but the pro hero didn’t comment as he pushed away from the folding table.

“Whatever,” he said as he started making his way toward the door. “I’m assuming you know what a washer and dryer look like and how to work them?”

“Y-Yes?” You furrowed your brow at his retreating back.

“Good,” he said over his shoulder, and then he was walking out the door, leaving you alone in the large white room with the silent machines and your dirty clothes.

You blinked after him for a moment, confused, but then shook your head. What were you expecting? He said he would show you where the laundry room was, and he did. He wasn’t about to fold your clothes, no matter what your overactive imagination said.

“Pull it together,” you berated yourself, turning to your bags and pulling out your dusty laundry.

You separated your clothes into piles based off their color and specific care instructions, just like your father taught you as a child. In college, your roommates made fun of you for not just tossing everything in together to meet death or glory, but you found the whole process relaxing. You would usually listen to some music or a podcast when you did your laundry, but your headphones were currently charging back in your room, since you used them all night to try and fall asleep in such a new environment.

You didn’t usually like to be alone with your thoughts for too long, and now was no exception, especially given the dream flashes that were still lingering along the fringes of your mind.

So, you started thinking about all the things you would have to do once your shop reopened. You would need to make a list of all the customer pieces that had been destroyed in the wreckage and contact their owners to see how they wanted to proceed. Since most of your customers were sweet, elderly people, they’d probably be very gracious, but you planned to give them a sizable discount for the inconvenience of being out of commission for several weeks. Then there were a few fabric vendors you would need to touch base with…

You hummed to yourself as you started putting the different piles of clothes in their own washing machines. They were all currently empty, so you didn’t feel too bad about taking up three machines on your own, but then you frowned when you realized you didn’t know where the detergent was kept.

“Soap’s in the cabinet in the corner.”

“Fucking shit!” You jumped out of your skin as you whirled around, and Bakugo smirked from where he was leaning against the folding table next to your bags.

“You really need to pay attention to your surroundings, Stitches,” he snickered. “Also, I might not know much English, but I know enough to know you’ve got a very dirty mouth.”

You blushed to the roots of your hair, both from embarrassment and from hearing the word “dirty” come out of his own mouth.

“I-I thought you had left,” you argued.

“That’s what you get for thinkin’.” The blond shrugged. “Come on, it’s gonna get cold.”

“What is?” you asked with a frown, but then the smell of coffee and warm, delicious food wafted into your nose, and your stomach gurgled.

“Breakfast, obviously.” He rolled his crimson eyes. “Are you going to put the soap in the machines or what?”

You didn’t want to embarrass yourself further by stuttering out more questions, so you turned to the corner of the room that had a cabinet bolted into the wall and strode over to it. Inside were various bottles of different detergents and softeners, as well as dryer sheets and reusable dryer balls, and you grabbed the first detergent you saw before marching back over to the machines and filling them up.

When you were done, you put the detergent back in the cabinet before you hesitantly made your way over to the pro hero, and you saw that your bags had been blocking the two bowls and two mugs of coffee Bakugo had set onto the folding table.

“Where did this come from?” you couldn’t help but ask as you stared at the food. It seemed to be a mixture of fried rice, eggs, and various vegetables, with two pieces of grilled fish shoved up along the lip of each bowl.

“It fell out of the sky,” the blond scoffed as he reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulled out two sets of wrapped chopsticks, and handed one to you.

“I’m serious.” You frowned but took the chopsticks. “I hope you didn’t have to go out and get this, I—”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Stitches,” he muttered, opening his own chopsticks before he picked up his bowl and hopped onto the row of machines opposite the folding table. “The room next door is a kitchen. The interns and sidekicks usually keep it stocked so we can cook between shifts if we want to. You’re free to grab whatever ya want while you’re here. Also, pass me one of the mugs, will ya?”

“You… cooked this?” you asked as you picked up one of the cups of black coffee and passed it over to him. Then you opened your own chopsticks and glanced down at the bowl. It smelled delicious.

“Yeah, well, I hadn’t eaten this morning, so I threw something together.” Bakugo scowled and shoved a bite of fish into his mouth, swallowing sharply before he spoke again. “If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to go get your own shit.”

“No, no, I— thank you, it smells amazing,” you hurriedly corrected.

Bakugo grunted around another bite of food but didn’t say anything else as he took a deep swig of coffee and kept eating. Not wanting to offend him, or let the meal grow cold, you picked up your bowl and tried not to drool at the mouth-watering aromas that assaulted your nose. Using your chopsticks, you tore off a chunk of fish and scooped up some rice, and the moment the mixture hit your tongue, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“Mmmmm,” you moaned as you savored the various flavors. The fish had a charredness that paired well with some kind of citrusy note, the vegetables were fresh and crunched between your teeth, and the rice and eggs were umami and spicy in turns.

You opened your eyes as your swallowed, only to find Bakugo staring at your intensely. Your skin immediately prickled under his scarlet gaze, and you reached up to touch the corner of your mouth.

“Do I have something on my face?” you muttered in embarrassment. “My mother always said I was a messy eater. As a kid, I always ended up with rice in my hair somehow.”

Oh my god. What were you saying? Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Bakugo, to his credit, didn’t laugh at you, but he did continue to stare at you almost unblinkingly.

“You’re fine,” he said after a long moment, then seemed to quickly correct himself. “I mean, you’re rice free for now.”

“Oh… good,” you said lamely and cursed yourself.

You suddenly felt very awkward just standing there holding your bowl, so after a quick moment of consideration, you set it on the folding table behind you, moved your bags onto the floor, and then hopped up onto the table so you were sitting opposite from where the blond was perched on his machine.

“Here,” Bakugo grunted once you were settled, and you looked up to see him fishing something out of his jacket pocket. When he extended his hand to you, you saw a couple crumpled packets of sugar and creamer nestled in his palm.

You stared at his hand for a moment, and he shook it impatiently at you.

“For your coffee,” he huffed. “I didn’t know what shit you put in it. If you don’t want it, just toss it.”

“Right,” you said, hastily reaching across the aisle and scooping the cream and sugar up. His palm was warm and very rough under your fingertips, and slick too, but you didn’t know if it was sweat or just the condensation from the creamer. “Thank you.”

You settled back onto the table, taking a moment to fix up your coffee with the appropriate number of sugars and creamer. As you used the opposite end of your chopstick to stir it all together, your skin prickled with the sensation of being watched, and you glanced up to see the blond staring at you again.

He seemed to jump a little when you met his eyes, but his upper lip immediately curled into a sneer.

“Shoulda known you drink that sugary shit,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked with a frown.

“Nothing,” he snorted, turning back to his food again.

You continued to frown at him for a moment before you picked up your food again, ducking your head as you tried to eat without further embarrassing yourself.

A few minutes of silence passed as the two of you ate and sipped your coffees, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t peek at the blond across from you. The first few times, he was just focused on his meal, but the next time you glanced over, your eyes clashed with his, and you poorly suppressed a wince.

Busted.

“Got somethin’ on your mind, Stitches?” he asked.

“No,” you blurted out, but when the blond just continued to stare at you, you started to anxiously kick your feet in the air as you fumbled for a logical response. “Just… this is really good. Thank you again for making it, Bakugo.”

You purposefully tacked on the “-san” honorific instead of “-sama” since he seemed to be so touchy about it, and by the twitch of his eyebrow, you knew he noticed, but you couldn’t read his expression further than that.

“Tch, thought you were gonna bitch it was too spicy,” he grunted before he shoved the last bite of fish into his mouth and set his bowl on the machine beside him. “Shitty Hair always begs for food after a patrol and then whines that it’s too spicy for him.”

A giggled slipped from your lips unbidden as you thought of the hardening hero with tears in his eyes while he fanned his burning tongue. The man had real golden-retriever energy, so you could just picture his dramatic reactions.

When you looked up, Bakugo was staring at your strangely, and you rushed to explain yourself.

“Sorry, it’s just… I can see that,” you said as you fought back a smile. “But, despite the ‘sugary shit’ I drink, I tend to like food spicier than most. I would say most foods could use a little kick.”

Bakugo smirked like what you said amused him, but then he blinked and shook his head slightly, and when he looked back at you, he was wearing his signature scowl.

“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to cook you every meal, Stitches. Some of us don’t get to lay around on a few week vacation.”

You pursed your lips and fought the urge to say that you hadn’t exactly asked for this ‘vacation.’ You didn’t understand the blond. One minute, he was saying something almost borderline nice, and the next, he was snapping at you again.

His obvious displeasure around you at least help to quell the half-formed dream flashes in the back of your head, but it also made you squirm in discomfort. You hated displeasing people. It was a bad habit that had gotten you fucked over at several jobs, and one classmate actually told you to your face that you came off as fake because you were always smiling, always trying to be nice, even when people were walking all over you.

You were trying to be better about that, to grow a little bit of a spine, so you silently finished your foot before you set the bowl beside you on the table and looked up at the pro hero.

“Well, it’s not a full vacation since I’ll be helping you, right?” you asked in an even, business-like tone. “Speaking of, did anything happen on patrol last night? Did you get hurt?”

“I’m not weak enough that I’m getting my ass kicked every day,” Bakugo sneered, the ugly expression twisting his handsome face. “The only reason that asphalt asshole even touched me was because some stupid extra got in the way and needed saving, and I was off duty, so I’d had a few fuckin’ drinks.”

You hadn’t realized he’d been drunk that night. That would explain why even his small cuts and abrasions had been bleeding so much.

Still, did he have to be so damn rude? Calling Mr. Takeyoshi an “extra” was uncalled for.

“Not every comment I make is an insult, Bakugo,” you said without thinking, and this time you purposefully enunciated the “-sama” honorific you added. “You said you needed my quirk, so I have to ask questions to heal you. Also, for future reference, if I was insulting you, you would know it.”

That last comment rolled off your tongue unbidden, and you bit down on the traitorous muscle until you tasted blood. You had wanted to show a little spine, but now your mouth was going to get you into trouble.

Bakugo, for his part, seemed so surprised that the scowl melted off his face, but then he smirked, and you knew you were in trouble by the glint in his red eyes.

“Oh, yeah, Stitches?” he asked. “Well, go on then. Insult me. You seem to have given it some thought.”

You mentally cursed yourself ten times over but quickly thought about your options. Backing down was an option… except not really. The blond had already pointed out how you apologized too much, not to mention your two left feet. You didn’t want to seem even weaker.

But on the other hand, you knew the pro hero was trying to bait you into embarrassing yourself, and you were terrible at insults. You had never insulted anyone to their face, the best you’d done is muttering comebacks under your breath hours after the fact when they finally came to you.

Fuck, he was still staring at you, and his smirk was growing by the second, silently asking, “Wellllll?” You had to say something.

“You’re a… a dick,” you blurted out and then immediately wanted to throw yourself out the window to your left. You were several stories up, right? The fall would probably kill you, and quick too, which would be a mercy.

You were just wondering if the window actually opened or if you would have to throw your body through it, when a noise distracted you.

Your eyes darted back to Bakugo, whose face was contorted almost in pain, like it had been when he woke up with a wooden stake through his gut. Concern started to rise up in you, overshadowing the embarrassment.

Until he finally burst out laughing, apparently unable to hold it back anymore.

Heat flooded your whole body, and your cheeks felt like they were seconds away from bursting into flame.

“Holy… shit,” Bakugo gasped as he hunched over the washing machine he was perched on. He started to compose himself, but then he looked at you and lost it all over again. “You… really got me there. Right in the heart. Probably won’t ever recover from this.”

He mimed stabbing himself in the heart through his snickers, and you errantly wished the building would just collapse around you right now.

“Shut up,” you muttered, turning your red face toward the window. “My parents taught me Japanese, and they didn’t teach me a lot of curse words. And the people I see the most since moving here are little old men and ladies. I don’t have the same vocabulary that I do in English.”

You’d learned both languages simultaneously growing up, but only spoke Japanese with you parents before you moved here, so you were still more comfortable with English.

“Oh, so you’d be able to rip me a new one in English then?” the blond taunted, and his crimson eyes were positively gleeful.

You had walked right into that one.

You huffed silently and decided to stop digging your hole any deeper. The pro hero grinned like he’d won, because he had, and you decided you were just never going to speak again in his presence.

“You give up too easy, Stitches,” he snickered, and you saw him shake his head in your peripherals.

But then he abruptly stopped the motion, and you thought you saw him wince, his hand rising off his thigh and reaching up to rub his brow.

“Does your head hurt?” You turned to face him more fully, all his taunting forgotten as your attention zoomed in on his suddenly scrunched face and narrowed eyes.

Bakugo locked gazes with you as he reflexively opened his mouth, and you could practically see the snappy words that were about to fall off his tongue, but he suddenly… stopped. He froze with his mouth partially open and just stared at you, and the internal struggle behind his red irises was very apparent.

Like he was one to talk about you needing a poker face.

“It’s nothing, just a stupid headache,” he finally said and surprised you. His tone was decidedly softer than the last time you’d asked if he was hurt. It wasn’t exactly gentle, still pretty gruff in fact, but the words weren’t sharpened into points and hurtled at you like daggers.

You’d take that as a win.

“Did you… hit your head last night?” you asked hesitantly, doing your best not to set him off again.

“No,” he grunted before he grabbed his coffee and drained the dregs of it. “Just didn’t sleep enough. I’ll be fin--”

“I can help you.” You winced as you cut him off, and then you started to babble against your will. “I mean, I know a headache probably isn’t much to a pro hero. I’ve personally seen that you get worse injuries, um… I mean, you’re obviously very strong, wouldn’t be the Number Two Hero without… being so strong. But, uh, headaches can just be annoying. From my experience anyway. And I heard Re— Kirishima say that you start your shift s-soon, and starting a shift with a headache is the worst, makes your whole day shitty, so I could just help you… not have one.”

Fucking hell. If you yanked out your tongue right now, would your quirk regrow it? You hoped not.

Bakugo stared at you for a long silent moment before he responded. “Fine.”

“Fine?” you echoed, and you couldn’t even hide the surprise in your tone.

“Yeah, fine.” Now, he was scowling again. “I want to see how your quirk works anyway.”

“O-Okay.” You swallowed sharply and tucked your hands into your overly long sleeves to wipe off the sweat that had suddenly accumulated on them. You glanced down at the ground, past your nervously swinging feet, and then up at the blond on top of the washer, judging the height. He was too tall for you to reach with you both standing, and he would be even taller if you were standing with him perched on the machine.

He seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time because he slipped off the washer in one smooth movement, boots clacking against the tiled floor. He closed the distance between you in a single stride and then came to a stop inches away from your knees. You still had to look up at him from his position, but you were at least close to eye level.

You were also just really close in general. To him. His sugar smell enveloped you like a cloud, and you started breathing shallowly through your mouth.

Think professional thoughts. Healer thoughts…

Fuck, why was he so goddamn pretty? You didn’t want to think that, shouldn’t be, but it was true. You’d seen images of him before, snapshots on the news, but he was always snarling, or covered in dirt, half hidden by his mask. But now, inches away in the bright morning light coming in through the window, his face was neutral, and you noticed his skin looked incredibly smooth, lips soft and not chapped. His pale coloring contrasted sharply with his piercing red eyes, but not in a bad way, and the lines of his face were sharp, his nose and his jawline carved from marble.

Stop it, you berated yourself. You’re not becoming one of those rabid hero fangirls. You’ve noticed he’s handsome because you have eyes, but this isn’t one of your crazy dreams. Nothing’s going to happen, so don’t make a bigger fool of yourself than you already have.

“Earth to Stitches,” Bakugo drawled and ripped you from your inner lecture. “Do you have to charge up your quirk or somethin’?”

“N-No,” you stuttered before you cleared your throat. “I mean, not really. I just… let me show you. May I?”

You lifted your hands up, the forest green and orange sleeves falling down to your elbows, but you paused and waited for permission.

The blond narrowed his scarlet eyes at you for a moment but then nodded once, so you raised your hands a little higher, and he bowed his head until your fingers met the edges of his hair.

It was surprising soft.

You shoved that thought away as you cupped either side of his skull, your thumbs landing on his temples. You could feel his pulse through the thin skin there, and you closed your eyes as you called up your quirk and funneled it through your fingers.

Immediately, a sharp spike of pain jammed itself between your eyes, and air hissed between your teeth as you inhaled sharply. This was nothing to the hero? He must have a high pain tolerance. You pushed through the discomfort and focused your power through the hero’s skull, worming your ways through the constricted blood vessels causing his headache and widening them until the pain abated. As an afterthought, you turned your attention to his ears, and a slight ringing started up in your own until your quirk washed that away, too.

When you opened your eyes, you jumped, finding the hero’s red gaze trained intensely on your face.

“T-That’s it,” you laughed nervously as you dropped your hands, simultaneously leaning back on the table you were sitting on to get some distance between you and the blond. “Nothing to it.”

“Why did you wince?” Bakugo asked, but given his gruff voice and furrowed brow, it was more like he demanded. “Does your quirk hurt you?”

You fidgeted under his scrutiny. Not many people had questioned you about your quirk beyond what it could do for them, but you already knew the blond was like a dog with a bone and wouldn’t let you rest until he was satisfied with your answers.

“Well, yes, and no,” you said hesitantly. “My quirk lets me heal people, but I also feel their pain. I think the purpose is two-fold. One, to help me identify where the injury is, and two, as a limitation. I’ve, uh, obviously done my research on other healing quirks. I read about this one hero, Recovery Girl, whose abilities were the most similar to mine. Except, I read her healing power was linked to the patient’s stamina.”

“Yeah,” the blond grunted. “The old hag worked at U.A. There were times she wouldn’t even fix us up, because she said our own bodies wouldn’t be able to heal on their own anymore or some shit.”

“Right.” You nodded but were a little surprised to learn he’d personally known such a well-renowned healer. “Well, my ability is tied to my own stamina, so the weaker I am, the less I can heal others. But thankfully, my quirk just automatically heals my own injuries, as long as I’m hydrated and have eaten enough food. The severity of the wound is really my only limitation. I’ve built up a pretty high pain tolerance over the years, so I can push through most things, but if someone was like missing a limb, that kinda of pain would probably push me into shock, and I wouldn’t be able to focus on my quirk. Thankfully, I haven’t come across something like that, the worst was probably the o-other-- uh, never mind. But, um, yeah… that’s how it works.”

The blond continued to stare at you in silence. You were beginning to suspect this was a tactic of his just to make people uncomfortable.

“The other night,” he finally said as his red eyes pinned you where you sat. “That’s what you were going to say. The worst was probably the other night. When I crashed through your window.”

You knew there was no point in lying to him, so you didn’t.

“Yes.” You blushed and averted your gaze. “Like I said, I failed the entrance exam to the hero course in high school, and let’s just say becoming a doctor didn’t work out, either. I haven’t had much opportunity to use my quirk on things more serious than the occasional hangover or twisted ankle for my roommates in college, and since moving here I’ve mostly been dealing with things like arthritis or cataracts, the occasional fracture.”

Talking about your “achievements” with one of the best heroes in Japan was more than a little embarrassing, and you desperately wanted out of this conversation.

“D-Did you need to go to that meeting with Kirishima and the others?” you asked, even though it had been probably close to half an hour since Bakugo led you up here. “I don’t want to waste any more of your time.”

“I never go to that shit,” the explosive hero said, but his tone sounded strange, and when you glanced back at him, he was still staring at you, like he was trying to peel back all your layers. “How bad was it?”

“What?” You frowned at him.

“My injuries,” he clarified as his lips started to twist into their signature scowl. “Besides the ears, what did you heal? Where did all the blood come from?”

“O-Oh.” You cleared your throat as you thought back to that night, his blood burning through your palms, the taste of dust heavy on your tongue. “Well… you were kinda all banged up. Your arm was badly burned, I could see the bone in some places. I think you had some fractured ribs, too. But the b-blood came from your abdomen. When you crashed through the window, I think a part of the frame impaled you. It went straight through you, through organs and some major blood vessels. I, um, took it out before I patched you up. That, plus the glass everywhere, was how I tore up my hands, but they’re fine now, good as new.”

You held up your hands, palms out, as you laughed nervously again, but the hero just frowned at you.

“So, you felt it?” he asked. “The burn, the ribs, the stake through the gut, everything?”

For some reason, he almost sounded upset, leaning toward angry, and you blinked in confusion.

“Yes?” you hedged. “That’s how my quirk works… But really, I was so hopped up on adrenaline that night, I only felt it for a second before I just panicked and dumped all the energy I could into you. I was terrified you were going to die, and then the cops were going to find me over the dead body of one of the nation’s greatest heroes, with his blood coated up to my wrists. But, thankfully, you lived, and I’m not in prison, so wins all around.”

The pro hero pursed his lips as he studied you, still far too close for your liking, practically looming over you on the table, and his expression seemed to be caught halfway between anger and something else you couldn’t place.

Finally, he let out a snort and took a step back, and you felt like you could breathe again.

“So, you’re a masochist,” he said. “A masochist with a dirty mouth and a savior complex.”

“Hey!” you protested, the tips of your ears burning hot. “That’s… rude.”

“Rude, right, same thing.” He shrugged his massive shoulders before he was suddenly leaning into your personal space again, and the breath hitched in your lungs as his arm brushed the outside of yours. Then he was backing away, holding the bowl that had been behind you on the table.

He turned around and grabbed his own bowl, mug, and chopsticks, and then he starting moving toward the door.

“I’ve got patrol soon. Leave your coffee mug in the kitchen when you’re done, and try not to fall down any stairs while I’m gone. And you should switch your clothes over.”

You opened your mouth to reply, with what, you don’t know, but you were cut off by the washing machines starting to chime, one after the other.

“How did you…” You glanced back at the doorway just in time to see the blond’s smirk before he slipped into the hall.

“Later, Stitches.”

You listened to the sound of his footsteps walk into the room next door and heard him deposit the dishes in what sounded like a sink. Then his boots clomped back down the hallway until you heard the ding of the elevator, and only when you heard it close did you let out the breath you’d been holding.

What the fuck just happened?

You groaned and tried to rub the heat out of your cheeks as you hopped down off the table, but your whole body continued to feel flush as you pulled your clothes out of the washer and switched them to the dryers.

You stayed in the laundry room for another hour or so, waiting for the clothes to dry and then folding them on the table you sat on earlier.

You tried not to notice how long the blond’s caramel scent lingered in the air after he left, but it kept taunting you every time you flared out a piece of clothing to fold.

If the next few weeks were going to be this hard, you were fucking screwed.

113 notes · View notes

crumbly-apple-pie · 2 years

Note

So... Hear me out... Zila and Nari just being two cuddle monsters in private... Because they deserve cuddles...

ok so firstly i'm so sorry it took me this long, but i finally found time to sit down and give this the story it deserves, so i hope you'll forgive me :)

also i'm gonna cross-post this to ao3 (and it'll be the first zila x nari fic on there, which is pretty cool. i mean, there is one other one but it's just a general aurora cycle fic and isn't really about them so it doesn't count lmao) i'll put the link here once it's up [https://archiveofourown.org/works/37031524]

anyways, here's our fave girls getting the cuddles and love they deserve

Zila knew it would be hard, staying back in 2177 without her squad. She knew there would be an almost impossible amount of work to be done, setting up everything so that in hundreds of years Squad 312 could save the galaxy, and not to mention the burden of founding the entire Aurora Academy. She knew all this, and of course it was work she wanted to do, but sometimes it felt endless, as if files would continue to fill up her computer system until she drowned in them.

She let out a sharp sigh and rubbed at her temples. Today had been one of the worst days so far.

She raised her hand to the palm-pad outside the door to Nari’s room. It blinked to life and the bar of light scrolled up the screen, scanning her handprint. It beeped, turning green. The door opened with a fwoosh.

The room really wasn’t much, just a standard suite that housed a bed, desk and small couch. The couch wasn’t a luxury offered to most people, but Nari was a lieutenant, and Zila didn’t have a room of her own, so the Higher-Ups had relented and let them have it, as long no damage came to it. Zila didn’t think it was possible for the couch to be damaged. The standard issue lump of fabric and steel barely even deserved the title of ‘couch.’

Nari looked up from where she was sprawled on the bed, smiling as Zila dumped her bag onto the floor.

“Hey,” she said by way of greeting, walking over to pull Zila into a hug. Zila relaxed into her arms, burying her face in Nari’s neck and breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Nari’s hands trailed lazily down her back and Zila felt some of the tension seep out of her shoulders.

“Hi,” she mumbled.

“Bad day huh?”

“I did not think it was possible to hate talking to people so much.”

Nari laughed, and Zila felt it reverberate through her body. It was nice, she thought, being this close to someone.

Nari moved her hands up to Zila’s shoulders, easing off her jacket for her and hanging it on a hook by the door. She manoeuvred them to the bed, pulling Zila into her as they both fell, exhausted, onto the sheets.

Nari shifted so that her body was pressed into Zila’s side, an arm around her waist and the other carding softly through her hair. ZIla let her eyes drop closed, content to let her girlfriend hold her.

“I love you,” Zila said, still hesitant to say it, still quiet and reserved. She was scared to let herself love again, after… everything. But then again, after everything, love was worth it.

“I love you too,” Nari murmured into the spot between her ear and her neck. Zila shivered as her hot breath washed over her skin.

Nari’s hand inched up under Zila’s shirt, tracing nonsensical patterns into her back.

“You know,” she said after a while, “I have a break coming up. I could take you to Terra. If you like. It’s just, I know you’ve never been and I thought it might be nice-”

Zila cut her off with a kiss, pressing their lips together gently. Warmth spread through her as Nari sighed slightly, hand moving from her hair to her jaw. Even something soft like this sent electricity shooting down her spine. When she pulled away she smiled and said, “Yes. I’d love to go to Terra with you.”

Nari grinned. “Alright then. Let’s do it. We can go wherever you like.”

“Wherever?”

“Yeah. As long as we make sure there’s a double bed.”

“Nari!” Zila squeaked, batting harmlessly at her chest. Nari’s smirk just grew wider.

“What?” she laughed, her eyes twinkling.

Zila just smiled. “Okay then, we can go anywhere as long as there’s a double bed.”

Nari grinned. “Deal.”

She pressed a soft kiss to Zila’s temple and brushed her hair away from her eyes. “You should sleep.”

“So should you.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She stood up and moved to where their clothes lay, piled next to each other in the tiny shelves. Zila’s pile was considerably neater than Nari’s. She pulled off her Lieutenant’s uniform and slipped on a large shirt in its place. Zila reluctantly got up from where she was lying and put on her own sleep clothes. She smiled as she felt Nari’s eyes on her, and her smile only grew as she felt arms wrap around her from behind and a voice whisper in her ear, “You’re beautiful.”

She let Nari pull her into bed and turn off the light, leaving them alone in semi-darkness, cosy under the sheets. Zila reached for Nari’s hand, intertwining their fingers and letting their palms rest in the space between them. Zila had never been very poetic, but there were certain things about Nari that couldn’t be thought about in simple terms. Like her eyes. Even in the darkness, they were pretty, endless pools of ink-dark love.

Nari pulled Zila closer to her, letting her hand rest on her lower back. She kissed her softly, slowly, smiling all the while, and when she pulled away she rested her head in the crook of her shoulder.

“I know it must be really hard, and I can’t even begin to imagine how insane all of this must be, but… I’m really glad you’re here. And you’re not alone,” Nari said.

“No, I’m not,” Zila agreed. “You’re right here with me.”

Her hawk smiled and snuggled closer to her. And as their breathing evened out and they drifted off to sleep, their hands stayed clasped together like a promise.

28 notes · View notes

feelin-woozy · 3 years

Text

Title: Sins of the Flesh

Word Count: 4,541

Pairing: Stu Macher / Reader / Billy Loomis

Warnings: Trans masc reader, but pronouns are hardly mentioned so 🤷‍♂️. This is just pure unadulterated filth but that's between God and me.

Also, unbeta'd because I was not making one of my poor friends read this lmao.

Summary:

The two of you move together in a delicate push and pull. Despite the sloppiness of it, each movement was carefully calculated. Your lips are slow and languid, taking your time to strip Billy down as Stu’s is more steadfast and keen. It’s uneven, but it’s familiar, just another step to the dance the three of you have perfected.

[AO3 LINK]

As quiet as the two of you try to be, the bed still creaks with each movement. One hand is locked with Stu’s by your head, the other threaded through soft blonde curls as you cradle his skull. Your lips meet, again and again, a weak attempt at trying to swallow the soft noises that threaten to spill from kiss bitten lips.

The movements of his hips are slow but deliberate, brushing against all the right spots that have your back lifting from the bed as you desperately try and push yourself closer to him. You could never get enough of Stu or Billy, for that matter. Each time calloused hands would brush along your soft skin, it would set your nerves ablaze. Their touch was intoxicating, even when you knew what those hands were capable of. If anything, it drew you further, like Alice falling down into the depth of Wonderland.

There’s something sick about it; it’s not something that should draw you in. But when those hands grace your skin with such reverence, you can’t help but melt into it. Teeth sink into your lower lip, worrying the flesh softly and drawing a sharp gasp from your throat. Your fingers curling into a tight grip within Stu’s hair.

“You’re going to wake him up.” You hiss as your eyes shift slightly to gaze at the man who sleeps next to you. You watch the way Billy’s chest rises and falls with easy even breaths with parted lips. He looks peaceful like this, and it makes warmth flood your chest. It’s a sharp juxtaposition to what the two of you were doing next to him. There was an innocence to the way he slept soundly as Stu fucked into you, tempting pleasure laced noises to tumble into the darkness that enveloped you all.

“Don’t really care.” Stu murmurs, letting out a soft laugh that washes your face with warm bursts of air. You’re not sure that you do either, not when he kisses you again, pushing his tongue into your mouth to drag along the backs of your teeth. Any anxieties or misgivings that you may have felt before wash away with the way Stu tastes on your tongue. You can still taste the lingerings of mint on him from when he had brushed his teeth earlier.

You lift a leg and hook it around the small of his back to drag him closer. The action has him letting out a rumble of approval, and the hand that wasn’t linked with yours comes to grip at your hip. Bitten down nails dig into the skin there, hard enough to make you squirm. You only hope there will be marks left to remind you of this and that this wasn’t just night that blurred into a dreamy state.

“ Fuck .” The voice cuts through the air, startling both you and Stu. You go to open your mouth to say something to Billy, but the words die on your tongue when Stu slams into you, sending the headboard to knock against the wall with some force.

“Like what you see?” Stu breaths turning his head to smirk at the other. The shadows play over his face as he turns his head, a dark glint in his eyes as he stares at Billy. “Wanna join?”

Billy stares at him for a moment, blinking away the sleep in his eyes as he takes in the sight before him. He lets out a soft, shaky exhale, cheeks flushing as he shifts in the bed to get a better look at the display before him before he nods his head slowly.

The bedsprings cry out under the rough pounding, the sounds joining in the carnal noises and the contact of their bodies. There was no need to be quiet any longer, not when Billy was staring at the two of you with a dazed look.

“Too bad.” Stu laughs; the sound is taunting and bold. It’s not the usual tone he holds for Billy within the confines of your bedroom; more often than not, both you and Stu were obeisant for the man. Chasing the pleasure that he controlled with cold, calculated looks that dripped with saccharine. But there’s something about Billy staring at you with bleary eyes and sleep still evident on his face that leaves Stu to toe the line of what he may not get away with ordinarily. “You’re gunna lay there and watch us and then maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll make you cum after.” His lips pull into a wicked grin as he dips down to press a wet kiss to the curve of your neck, nipping at the flushed skin. “Right baby?”

He doesn’t leave you room to answer, not that you could manage anything more than an intelligible babble at this point. And knowing Stu, the man would take that as praise and encouragement. You’re certain that the neighbors would be woken by the sounds that seeped from your bedroom. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin were almost deafening. You could hear how wet you were, and the pleasure tinted shame had your head tipping back against the soft pillows.

You move your hand, untangling it from Stu’s hair to trace along the muscles of his arms, feeling them flex under his movements before you dig your nails into his skin. “ Fuck, Stu .”

“Stu, come on, don’t be mean.” Billy’s words don’t have the usual weight to them; that mean cutting edge he held when he wasn’t getting his way. There was something more complacent in his tone that only came when he was pulled from sleep or too tired to put up a fight against a losing battle.

The taller man thinks for a moment, eyes bouncing between your face and Billy as he lazily rolled his hips against you. Finally, he lets a wry smirk spread over his face. “Fine, touch yourself, but don’t you dare fucking come.”

Billy looks at him for a moment as if he was contemplating the order. You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, likely swallowing the urge to turn the tables and make Stu’s world spin on its axis. But he moves quickly but sluggishly, lifting his hips to shove his briefs down past his thighs. He kicks them off, sending them to land somewhere in the room as his cock springs free, bobbing against his stomach. Even in darkness, you can see how precum glints within the light of the moon that peaks through the blinds. He grasps his cock, lazily stroking himself as he watches you and Stu.

You tip your head back as you feel chapped lips drag along the plane of your neck.

“He feels so good Billy,” Stu groans, hips stuttering briefly before he drives into you with enough force to rip a cry from your throat. “So fucking wet for me .” he pants before his teeth sink into your neck. You feel the way his words reverberate over your neck, the action making you tremble. “Tell Billy how good you feel, baby.”

“H-hah, fuck,” You sputter as you drag the blunt of your nails down against his arms, leaving angry red lines to rise in their wake. Words don’t form easily in your mind. You have to fight to get anything past broken syllables past your lips; when you do, they come out in shuddering cries. “Good, shit Billy, he’s so good.”

You’re expecting anger to flash over Billy’s face at those words, at knowing it was Stu getting you like this and not him. Not that he hadn’t done this to you time and time again, but this paired with being forced headfirst into a submissive role likely wouldn’t have sat right with him. And perhaps if it was any other situation, there would be anger that brewed within his eyes. Instead, Billy lets out an unabashed moan, hips rising to meet his fist as he watches the scene that plays out before him.

“Can I kiss him?” You blink up at Stu, tongue flicking out to wet your lips as you stare at the man, searching his face for any form of permission from him. Tonight, it was clear that Stu was in charge. And you didn’t mind in the slightest; you were happy to follow his commands with effortless precision, like a devout believer following their scripture.

He nods his head eagerly, excitement flickering in his eyes at the proposition. Billy is quick to meet your movements, turning his head to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. Billy didn’t hold back in kissing you, tongue eagerly brushing along yours as he moaned into your mouth.

The hand that was wrapped around his cock moves quickly, sliding awkwardly between Stu and you to come and pinch at your clit. It’s not the best angle, but it doesn’t matter. The sudden sensation still has you pulling away from the kiss as your back arches like a bow. You think you hear the two of them laugh at you, but you can’t be too certain. Too drunk on the feeling of Billy slowly toying with you and bringing you swiftly to your own release.

“Gunna come for us baby?” Billy whispers, leaning over and forcefully capturing your lips in his again. You nod against him, lips clumsily trying to match his movements. Your body pulls taut, muscles flexing and relaxing as you let out a scream that is reminiscent of a banshee, as your release drags you under unforgiving waves.

“Fuck, you two are so hot.” Stu groans, watching the way the scene below him play out. It was desperate and frantic, Billy’s teeth sinking into your lower lip hard enough to draw soft whimpers from your throat as you were fucked into oversensitivity.

You feel the way Stu begins to tremble against you, his grip on your hand tightening almost painfully. The movements of his hips are brutal, an unforgiving pace that had become stuttered as he neared his release. It doesn’t take long before he comes, a sharp cry tumbling past rosy lips as his cock pulses and he’s filling you up.

With a sort of reluctance, he pulls away, sitting back on his heels to admire the sight before him. The way his cum dribbles out of you, how Billy is still eagerly kissing you and how his hand is back on his cock.

Stu had to give the man props for not going against his word and bringing himself over the edge. Perhaps Billy was just as eager to see how this would play out. Stu lets out a contemplative hum before leaning over and grabbing Billy by the hair and drawing him away from you. He leans in close, dragging his lips over the curve of the man’s neck and drinking in the way gooseflesh rises over his skin.

“I want you to eat my cum out of him.” Stu murmurs just low enough that you almost miss it. Color pours over Billy at that, his cheeks turning a dusty pink that spills down his torso. “Don’t you want to make him cum on your tongue? Go on, see how good we taste.”

They move quickly, shifting places with each other so that Billy was settling between your legs and Stu was at your side. He maneuvers your body easily like you were nothing more than a rag doll to be situated to his pleasure. Not that you minded, it was rare that Stu was in a mood like this, or more so rare that Billy relinquished any sense of control, so you reveled in the way Stu moved to sit behind you before pulling you back, so your back was pressed against the damp skin of his chest.

Billy doesn’t waste time; he starts by kissing along your hips, slowly dragging his lips along the soft hair that covers your thighs. He stops to suck a bruise into the skin, lifting his eyes to lock with yours. It’s hard to fully make out the features of his face as shadows dance over him, but you still catch the wild look in his dark eyes.

“Don’t have all-” You jolt at the feel of his tongue gliding through your slick folds. They melt away into a breathy gasp as you lean back against Stu’s chest, who coos at you adoringly.

Billy moves his hands to run along the firm muscles of your thighs, the pads of his fingers digging in softly before slung your legs over his shoulders, holding onto your hips to keep you in place. A slight whine of frustration bubbles from within your throat at the sudden restriction; you wanted nothing more than to press back and rock yourself against Billy’s face.

Soft chuckles float through the air from both Billy and Stu, the sound mixing like the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. Though you don’t have time to dwell on it, not when Billy is dragging the point of his tongue through your folds. You can feel the way Stu’s cum and your slick is pushed around with the tip of his tongue, and the imagery makes you shudder against their respective holds on you. Billy shows his pleasure with a low groan, eyes fluttering closed as he greedily works his tongue inside of you.

You shift in their hold, body wound tight as heat sears every nerve that runs through your body. There was no way you could escape either of them; you were trapped like prey waiting to be devoured by the two men. Not that you minded, it was blissful to be taken apart by them time and time again only to be rebuilt with their careful hands.

“Taste good, baby?” Stu breathes as he watches Billy, the warm air tickling your skin. The man between your legs lets out an exaggerated moan of his agreement as his grip on your hips tightens. You can’t stop the way your body writhes or the way Billy’s name tumbles past your lips in a fit of desperation as he begins to eat you out like a man starved.

You’re only absently aware of the way Stu’s hand moves along your chest, fingers dancing along the thin scars that littered your torso. His touch is merely an afterthought, a feeble attempt at keeping you grounded as your impending release coils violently within the pit of your belly for the second time tonight. Tipping your head back, you manage to catch Stu’s eyes in a heated gaze. You take note of the way he stares at you with a look that borders on manic, the way his lips twitch in the excitement that comes with watching you fall apart at their hands.

Eyes fall shut as you exhale a sharp breath, one hand coming to curl in the thick brown locks between your thighs, the other coming to grasp desperately lace with Stu’s hand. “Such a good boy for us, Billy.”

The praise has Billy whining, the noise reverberating against your core and sending bolts of lightning to shoot through your body. One of the hands that gripped your hips moved carefully, coming to brush along your clit. The first brush of his thumb was tentative as he observed your reaction. It was almost kind of him to test the waters first, opposed to how he would usually cruelly toy with your body well past the point of oversensitivity. Your thighs quaked around his head, and you wiggle in his hold, breath caught in your throat before he pressed his thumb more insistently into the engorged flesh.

It doesn’t take long now, with the easy movements of his thumb and the way his tongue dives into you fervently. You can feel the way your cunt flutters around his tongue, the way the muscles in your thighs tighten, and how Stu squeezes your hand, muttering quiet praise into your ear as you sob through your release.

Billy only draws back, sitting once he’s confident he’s fucked you through your release. He stares down at you with a predatory gaze, lips and chin slick with you and Stu’s releases. He doesn’t seem to mind as he licks lips greedily. You can’t find words yet, chest heaving as you try and put your mind together once more but to no avail.

Thankfully, Stu speaks for the two of you as he strokes your hair away from your sweat slicked forehead. “Was that good?” Stu purrs lowly, pressing his lips to the side of your head, “Think we should make him cum?”

Billy waits as patiently as he can as he awaits the verdict, his hands balling up in tight fists that rest along his thighs. You take a moment and let your eyes roll over his flushed and sweaty body, eyes stopping only to take in the sight of his flushed cock, beads of precum glistening at the tip, and dribbling down along the length. Finally, you find the words begin to form in your head, “I think he earned it.”

The excitement that Billy exudes over those words is damn near palpable. You can feel the way he has to fight against his carnal desires to tear both you and Stu to shreds for his pleasure. But he waits there patiently, lips parting in a shaky exhale as his eyes bounce between you and Stu.

You smirk at Billy before tipping your head back to catch Stu’s lips in a soft kiss. “Think he deserves to fuck one of us?” You ponder aloud as you feel Stu’s teeth catch your lower lip between his teeth. “Or maybe we should blow him.”

“Let’s blow him.” Stu murmurs, shifting his gaze to look at Billy. “He’s lucky he even gets that after rudely interrupting us.”

You give Stu a final peck before pulling away, turning to look at Billy as well. The man doesn’t falter under you and Stu’s gaze; instead, you see something fiery brewing within his eyes like maybe he’s amused enough with the game being changed by the two of you that he’s just barely willing to indulge the two of you. Thus far, he had gone along, so the two of you were likely in the clear of Billy attempting to retain control.

The three of you move around the bed easily, like a silent dance the three of you have perfected over your time together. One that should anyone else see, they’d fail to recreate it. Billy sits with his back to the dark wood headboard, legs splayed in a way that radiates confidence as Stu and you settle awkwardly between his spread thighs.

“Can’t wait to wipe that smug fucking look right off your face.” Stu laughs, long fingers raking along Billy’s thighs. Billy just smiles at him, feigning innocence as if he doesn’t have a clue what the other is talking about. A quiet unspoken challenge that you and Stu were happy to rise to if it meant deconstructing Billy into a sniveling mess.

And the fact he trusts you guys enough to try it made your heart lurch in your chest. You don’t let your mind wander too far, too caught up in the lust that hung heavily in the air to really dwell on anything softer.

Your hand wraps around the base of Billy’s cock and strokes him slowly for a brief moment, eyes bouncing between watching his cock throb excitedly in your hand and the way his eyes flutter at the sudden friction. The sigh of relief that Billy lets out when your lips wrap around his cock borders on being cute if such a thing could exist within this state of debauchery.

“Think he likes it,” Stu sings, and even without looking at him, you know that he’s smiling. Warmth in his eyes as he watches the two of you.

You start licking broad stripes along his cock, dragging the tip of your tongue along in a teasing manner that has Billy’s hips rising in a weak attempt at seeking more. Before you can hold him the way he held you, you hear Stu ruffling beside you.

“Ah, ah ah.” Stu chides, bringing a hand to steady Billy’s hips. You observe the way nails sink into the soft skin, a gentle warning. “Don’t move, don’t want you busting like a virgin.”

“You two are going to be the death of me.” Billy grumbles, letting his head fall back against the headboard with a thump. But his hips still relax, settling back down into the plush mattress. You can nearly feel the way he fights against rocking his hips when you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, but you hum softly in approval as you take him further into your mouth till you feel him nudging the back of your throats.

“I can think of worse things.” Stu shrugs with a snicker as he watches the way Billy’s fingers curl into the sheets below. He leans down as your head bobbed up, carefully maneuvering himself so he could lick at the exposed area that you hadn’t taken into your mouth.

Sounds of slick and enthusiastic sucking fill the space in between where Billy doesn’t groan. Spit dribbling down the length of his cock and smearing along yours and Billy’s chin in a way that has you feeling utterly dissolute.

“Fuck,” Billy groans, thighs flexing as he fights against wildly bucking up into you and Stu’s mouth. It was messy and obscene, the wet sounds of the two of you working Billy’s cock in an easy rhythm filling the room. “Oh fuck,” The words mindlessly tumble off his tongue, and you can tell that he’s fighting not to spill then and there with the way his hips had begun to rock slowly and how his knuckles blanched under the force of his grips. “ Close .” He warned, the noise broken and debauched.

You pulled back with a pop, Stu following your movements wordlessly though he didn’t stop from tilting his head as he stared at you with a mischievous smirk and raised brow. You stare down at Billy, watching the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, the way his brows knit together as thinly veiled anger and annoyance flashes over his face. He grits his teeth, and you laugh at him.

“Do you wanna fuck his face?” You murmur, raising a brow as you stare at Billy. Any anger he may have previously held washes from his face as quickly as it had taken hold. Stu’s laugh echoes through the air with giddy excitement.

“Yeah?” Billy asks, looking at the two of you with skepticism, his brown eyes swimming with dazed pleasure as he blinks lazily. It was as if the offer was too good to be true after all that you had put him through. You watch the way he tries not to look overly excited like he wasn’t jumping at the first opportunity to ravage the two of you should that chance never come.

“Course, you’ve been so good for us, baby.” You hum softly, carefully moving from between his thighs to rest beside him. You grasp his face in yours, nails digging softly into his cheek before catching his lips in a slow kiss. A hand comes to cradle the back of Billy’s skull as you rake your nails lightly along his scalp.

By the way, Billy gasps into your mouth, you assume that Stu’s mouth is on him again. You know for a fact that Stu’s mouth is swallowing him down to the base when you watch a hand sink into short curls and the sudden sound of wet choking swirls through the air.

Teeth sink into your lower lip as a hand worms its way into your hair, fisting it in a tight grip that has you whining as the pain spreads over your scalp. Any pretenses of submission are quickly lost as Billy finds his footing with ease, easily slipping into his usual role now that the two of you had your fun.

The bed begins to creak once more, protesting against the almost violent movements of Billy’s hips. The slick sounds of spit and barely staved off gagging hanging heavily in the air. It made the air thick and smothering, and you almost found it hard to breathe.

Billy lets out sharp, stuttered puffs of air against your lips. The two of you weren’t even kissing at this point; Billy just held you there, foreheads pressed against each other as he used Stu’s throat to chase his own release.

“You two are real brats, know that?” He growls low in his throat, but his words tremble violently. You can’t take him too seriously when he sounds so broken and deranged. Though you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on when he got like this, so wound up that when the tension finally snapped, he was damn near rabid.

“Maybe next time you should put us in our place.” You whisper quietly enough that you aren’t sure if Stu can hear you, but you know that Billy does the way he snarls and nods his head quickly.

Not long after, Billy is crying out, the fist in your hair tightening enough that you cry out in pain as his climax hits him with enough force that if he were standing, he would crumble and fold like wet cardboard. You shift your gaze to Stu, watching the way he strokes his hands along Billy’s thighs as he dutifully swallows around Billy.

Slowly, Billy goes slack, relaxing his hold on both Stu and you enough that the two of you can worm your way out of his grip. He nearly deflates into the mattress with a sated sigh.

“I think he enjoyed that.” Stu laughs, looking at you with a dopey grin. His eyes are glossy with moisture, and his cheeks are rosy but still, even in this state, he beams at you.

Billy cracks open an eye to look at Stu and you before letting his eyes close again. A smile pulls at his lips, though, and you can’t help but preen as you feel the warmth that rolls off his body in thick waves.

“What gave it away?” You chuckled as you moved to settle yourself back into the bed. The depravity in the air had begun to subside, shifting into something sleepy, warm, and safe . You turn and press a gentle kiss to Billy’s chest before you rest your head there, watching as Stu fumbled with the blankets, dragging them over the three of you before he too settled into Billy’s side.

“Love you guys.” Billy gets out through a yawn, and the two of you murmured your love for him before you allowed the warm afterglow to slowly lull you into sleep.

#Billy loomis x reader x stu macher #poly ghostface #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x stu macher #billy loomis x you #stu macher x billy loomis #slasher x reader #This is just pure fucking filth ok #also likes r good but reblogs bring me joy #esp if u leave little comments in the tags #my writing

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

Text

Pretty Ricky

Spencer Reid x Poc!Reader

Synopsis; Giving Spencer a lesson in r&b goes better than expected

Warnings; smut, oral (female receiving), face sitting

part two of You know biggie

I added links for all the songs as their titles pop up:)

a/n; a few of yall asked for a part 2 so here it is! idk why this sudden wave of motivation to write is hitting me but i am not complaining lmao as always hope you enjoy!

***

It was 6pm when Spencer called you saying he was on the way. You had woken up slightly hung over from the party at Rossi’s the night before. When he offered to bring Chinese take out you had to hold in a moan at how good the greasy food sounded.

You reached deep in your closet and pulled out the old cd’s you collected from your younger years. Along with pulling out your bluetooth speaker you were ready to blow his mind with the magic that was r&b.

By the time the evening rolled around you were laying on the couch with old flannel pants you turned into shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Your curls sprawled around your head as you rested on one of your decorative pillows.

The three knocks on the door made you perk up. “COMING,” you yelled as you pulled yourself up. Opening the door you were met with Spencer holding a large brown paper bag in one hand and a bottle of sparkling cider on the other.

You took in the sight of him in something other than the suits he wears for work everyday. The t-shirt he had on was a salmon color and he wore jeans. Jeans! But of course on top he had on a cardigan. They were like a second skin to him.

His speaking brought you out of your stupor, “Can I come in? This bag is getting heavy.”

“Oh yeah of course,” you let out a giggle, “You think a bag of take out is heavy? That gun must weigh you down big time.”

“How many time have I saved your butt out there,” he questioned looking through your kitchen drawers for a bottle opener.

You rolled your eyes and ruffled his hair bumping your hip with his as you opened the correct drawer then finally pulling out the opener, “You think about my butt often Spence?”

You could see the blush on his face as he took the bottle opener out of your hands. Opening your cabinets you reached up to pull out some plates and set them over on your table.

“Alright Spence, we’ll guide you in easily,” you said walking over to your speaker, “now you know you’re my favorite white boy but let me put you on to Justin Timberlake.”

“Favorite white boy,” he said with a look of confusion.

“Yeah you know, unproblematic, definitely invited to the cookout, and most definitely romances all the ladies,” you shot him a wink from across the living room just as Summer Love came on.

“I’ve never been to a cookout,” he said with a small pout on his lips.

“We’ll just have to fix that then,” you said serving yourself chow mein.

As the music played on little eating was done on your part. Spencer watched you in awe as you gave small backgrounds on the artists. It was entrancing to see you in all your natural glory teaching him about something he wasn’t too well versed in. His absolute favorite was you using the fork as microphone to serenade him like you did in the car. However something about this time was a but more intimate.

Poison came on and you lit up like a Christmas tree. Naturally you pulled Spencer into your living room to dance with you.

“Cmon Spence show me your moves. How do you get down in the club,” you said adding a sway to your hips.

“Y/n I don’t really dance,” he said watching as you grabbed his hands to try and get him into the rhythm.

“Please Spencerrr, humor me,” you said with a pout that spread into a smile across your face.

Suddenly the lyrics ‘never trust a big butt and a smile’ made so much more sense in his head.

Never being one to disappoint he let his noodle like limbs move to what he thought was the beat. It was a little off but you were enjoying it nonetheless.

“Yeah get it Pretty Ricky,” you cheered him on as laughs bubbled through each of your lips.

You gasped, “That’s it! Do you know that there is a group with your nickname?”

“Oh there is?”

You hummed as Grind on Me flowed out of the speakers. With a sudden gain of confidence you backed Spencer up until the back of his legs hit the couch. He yelped as his bottom hit the couch and you straddled his lap.

“Is this ok baby,” you asked leaning in so your lips were inches apart. He eagerly nodded. Leaning back his hands protectively wrapped around your waist to keep you from going too far.

He was mesmerized as you grinded up against his growing bulge and continued to the sing provocative lyrics right against his lips. If he had died this was what his heaven was.

The way the sunset flowing in through the windows did wonders for your naturally glowing skin. It illuminated your brown orbs on a whole other level.

He had enough of the teasing and put both hands on the sides of your face to pull you in for a heated kiss. You let out gasps at the roughness of his peppermint lips and the friction from under you.

His hands slipped down around to cup your ass and gave it a squeeze. Ok white boy got moves, you thought. You let your lips drift down to his long neck leaving marks until you found the sweet spot under his ear.

Both of you were too occupied to notice the song switch to Neighbors Know my Name. Fitting.

Spencer mumbling something caught your attention, “Sit on my face.”

You looked into his eyes searching for signs he was joking but the only thing visible were his lust blown pupils. You were taking too long for his liking so he tapped on your thigh for you to get up so he could lay back on the couch.

You quickly scrambled to push off your bottoms and moved to get back on his lap, slowly moving up his chest in case he was ready to back out.

However Spencer was more than ready to have you up above him like the goddess you were. His hands wrapped around your thighs and pulled you up to his awaiting mouth.

You yelped as he quickly attached his lips to your clit, taking it in this mouth and sucking on it like his life depended on it.

“Fuck Spencer,” you whined and let your hand fall to loose curls.

He let out a groan into your heat as you tugged on his hair. He was eating you up like a man deprived of water his whole life. You bucked you lips in motion with his mouth trying to chase your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Oh god I’m gonna cum,” you mewled

One of his hands moved up to rub little circles on your aching bud as his tongue thrusted into your dripping pussy. That was your undoing. You came with a scream of his name as you rode out your orgasm.

You quickly scooted back to straddle his hips and you leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. The taste of your release on his tongue made you moan.

You reached down and started palming the prominent tent in his jeans, “Let’s take care of this huh baby?”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x poc!reader #poc!reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #chellewrites

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emmys-grimoire · 3 years

Text

Lesson 52 analysis + 53 predictions

Turning this into a routine thing now! They’re fun to write and they’re popular (moreso than my actual commentary posts lmao).

Y’all like my ramblings.

Things guessed correctly from prior lesson

The House of Lamentation was an illusion produced by the fairies

The arc culminated in the completion of the Trial of Patience (star received via Simeon)

The illusion did a number on Simeon's feelings as well due to his fondness for Lucifer and the brothers

They shoved Mammon and Luke off to the side and plopped them back in only after the Satan/Simeon arc was complete. There was no arc for Luke. To be fair, though, they did get more content than I expected even so.

Things guessed wrong

The banshee didn't show up at all. It was a red herring.

There was no significance to the geranium found in the mysterious book

Our adventure also completed the Trial of Generosity. (I incorrectly attributed this to Diavolo, who actually gave us the Star of Gratitude)

Still ???

Whether or not there is some kind of transfer of memories/experiences going on between the brothers' past selves and present selves due to our meddling in time. We've confirmed that past angel Beelzebub has turned into a glutton in between the time we last saw him and now, but we haven't confirmed if it *is* our meddling that has induced that. Currently, no change has manifested in the present brothers, nor has the timeline of events seemed to have significantly changed.

Whether or not present Lucifer becoming more "angelic" in season 2, in lieu of past angel Lucifer's growing doubt, will be a significant plot point. The parallels are getting stronger, though. (This is elaborated on further down)

It feels like 50/50? I’ll probably keep a list like this going for future analysis/prediction posts just so I can keep track of how right/mistaken I am throughout the playthrough. Might help me make less mistakes in my analysis!

As a general rule I try not to meander too far off into symbolism or out-of-game lore because what I write begins to sound like this:

And this is an otome game that is light on writing and plot. Nine times out of ten, it’s not going to be that deep. So I work with the details given and the plot points shown and try to draw connections within the framework of the story, in an attempt to try to deduce where the devs are taking the plot. Unfortunately for me, the devs like red herrings, and red herrings are designed to mislead you. With me, they are quite successful! I’d like to get better at spotting them.

The book was consequential -- it’s used to imprison Satan later -- but that’s the end of it’s meaning. Maybe the Bible verse had something to do with it, too -- those were some weird ass numbers to just throw in the title -- but maybe not. Either way, it doesn’t really matter.

But enough of that, onwards! We have a lot of points to go over that may be interesting to note, right or not.

Satan the Memory Thief

Back in 50-B we learn that it was Michael who taught the brothers the stories behind the human world constellations.

When we’re tossed back in time-dreamland (?) again, it is Satan who takes the opportunity to teach the brothers the human world constellations. The room had just been remodeled: Michael hasn’t had the opportunity to give them tours yet. Lucifer mosied into the room so he and the brothers can get the first glimpse.

Sooo if in a future lesson we ask them about where they learned the constellations in the present timeline and they say “oh a guy named Sully, who suspiciously looked just like Satan, taught us!” then we know our meddling is having significant consequences.

It IS worth noting that unlike the prior dream sequence, Satan and Simeon remember what they just went through. This particular time-dream could very well just be an illusion meant to give Satan/Simeon some kind of emotional resolution and nothing else. This is kind of why I hate that they’re bring time travel back into the story: it makes stuff like this confusing and borderline inconsistent. Some sequences may have effects and others may not.

The chat between Lucifer and Simeon could also be consequential.

“Do you *really* mean that?”

There is a parallel at play here!

After you wake up after dozing off, you go off to find Lucifer and Simeon conversing in a forest clearing, evidently unaware that you’re eavesdropping on them. Simeon says although he knows it is just an illusion, that he was glad to see angel Lucy once more. Angel Lucy is predictably confused, and reassures Simeon that they’ll remain like this forever.

Simeon, of course, knows better. He tells Lucifer that he knows he’s been meeting with Diavolo and he’s having doubts about his place in the Celestial Realm -- and if things really will remain the same. Lucy is caught off guard, and starts to explain with some clear hesitation... and of course we pass out before we could hear his answer.

There’s creepy loud heartbeats when it fades out. Normally I associate them with tense, pivotal decisions -- but it could also just be related to us waking up and returning to reality.

If Simeon ends up being wrong -- and there will be real world consequences to this conversation -- they could be very significant consequences. We’re not sure if the conversation continues for a bit longer after we pass out, but Simeon already woke up before we come to.

Obviously the brothers still fell (they’re still demons in the present), but I wouldn’t underestimate the potential of a butterfly effect changing the circumstances of the Great Celestial War. I kind of hope they don’t do that, though, because they haven’t even begun to explain the present details of that event. We know only the broad strokes. Suddenly changing them to make the resolution between the demons and angels more smooth will feel really forced.

And that parallel I mentioned: Diavolo expresses similar worries and doubt in Lucifer’s conviction in season 2.

I have no doubt Lucifer actually means what he says to Diavolo, unlike his dialogue with Simeon, but Diavolo is aware of just how far Lucifer will go for the sake of his family -- and he’s probably #2 on the priority list, when push comes to shove. Lucifer forsaking the Celestial Realm for Lilith was the thing that brought him to Diavolo in the first place.

Of course, this lesson has Simeon suggesting that Diavolo’s influence on Lucifer was significant prior to all that unfolding, and it may have eventually happened regardless. It was only a matter of when, not how.

Still, Lucifer be writing checks he may not be able to cash. We also get this foreboding warning from Barbatos in Season 2:

As I’ve said before, the inevitable conflict the story was hinting to at this point doesn’t happen in Season 2. Lucifer isn’t forced to make a choice like this. The Night Dagger didn’t demand it.

I’ve also expressed my belief that Season 2 and Season 3 were likely written back-to-back due to the small window of time between their releases, so I believe details overlooked in Season 2 may suddenly become more relevant in Season 3.

It’s worth remembering Diavolo’s growing feelings for MC -- and Lucifer’s inner conflict about it -- were hinted at early in Season 2, as well. It doesn’t really get going until the conclusion of Season 2, leading into Season 3.

Do I have any clue of what this is actually leading up to? Not at all! If it mirrors Season 2′s format, though, it’ll suddenly come to a head in the last 3-5 lessons. I remember feeling equally clueless then, and Season 2 had a lot more foreshadowing...

... a lot of which actually didn’t pan out! But it might now.

Guardian Angels

Another smaller, but interesting detail. Guardian Angels are indeed a thing.

I think they’re gonna become a thing soon. The devs very sneakily changed a small detail in Season 2, suggesting they might have realized that it may interfere with their plans for later seasons.

Old version.

New version.

I’m thinking they may have decided giving Michael guardianship of an entire swath of the population was cheating, and they may be individualizing the role of Guardian Angels.

Which leads me to who I think Michael’s chosen human squeeze is:

My man has been scoping him out long before we came around.

It makes sense, too. We know Michael gave his Ring of Wisdom to Solomon, which seems to have kickstarted his career as a demon-pacting sorcerer (though he clearly was a sorcerer before this).

This is a very powerful item, described as the Ring of Light’s counterpart, that would be very useful for a high-ranking angel to possess. I don’t think Michael would fork it over to just anyone, particularly when we remember how he felt compelled to interrogate us via dream hi-jack before the Ring of Light fully came into our possession.

Solomon also makes Michael angst in a way a well-meaning but misbehaving child would make their parent angst:

Solomon also really doesn’t seem to regard Michael like some distant, all-powerful alien being who could smite him out of existence.

Contrast this with how he responds when he’s forced to hang out with Diavolo for a day (he gets more comfortable, but he initially wants to punt the responsibility back to Lucifer ASAP).

And he knows a surprising amount of small details about the guy:

I think Solomon is a significant part of Michael’s long-term plans, but he may not even be fully aware of how. Or he is, and they’re in some kind of mutually beneficial agreement -- possibly related to cross-realm peace -- that we simply haven’t been made aware of yet.

Personally, I think Simeon should be made MC’s ‘official’ Guardian Angel if they’re gonna be a thing with official mechanics behind them. I know Michael is supposed to be the Big Cheese and ridiculously hot, so it may make sense to have him linked to the MC of an otome game because they’re super special too, but Michael may already have Solomon. He shouldn’t get to hog everything. It’s not like assigning Simeon to do job would really inconvenience him, either: MC is Solomon’s apprentice. He can easily work with the arrangement.

Luke may feel left out but he’s a kid so...

Seven Brothers Constellation

We learn there’s a constellation representing the brothers in the Celestial Realm. Everyone there knows the legend, but Luke doesn’t know what the three stars ‘watching over them’ represent.

He, Mammon, and Satan begin to theorize and Satan suggests they may represent the three realms. The other two like the idea, and Mammon insists the ‘human’ star represents MC.

He’s probably right, but I’m willing to take it a step further: it represents MC, Diavolo, and Michael. The three “guardians” of their respective realms, and the brothers. Season 3 has been repeatedly beating us over the head with how much Michael still cares for the brothers and his relevance to their upbringing, and likely their future.

It bears repeating: Diavolo and Michael are aiming towards the same goal, though their visions of what peace and harmony looks like may be very different.

Solomon could also qualify as a self-appointed guardian, but I think he lacks the connection to the brothers MC obviously has.

Still, he has the same resolve, and he’s not leaving the story any time soon.

Predictions

I sniff out even the smallest Michael details because he’s clearly the key to whatever is gonna blow up.

This might give us some insight on how the initial dealings with him may unfold:

It’s hard to deduce just what this actually means. Either Michael tends to overthink things that just aren’t that deep (can empathize) and that in itself leads to needless complications, or he’s apt to misread situations and as a result gives poor advice. Or a combination of both.

My initial read on him makes me think that he thinks the best of humans/angels but the worst of demons. He is very, very complimentary towards MC as soon as they start answering his questions.

Am I now? Really?

It could just be the game making characters butter up the MC to make the game more enjoyable for the player of a self-insert character, but dude we just met.

When you tell him you did what you did out of love for Lucifer:

That’s a very telling pause/ellipsis. It’s like his brain momentarily short-circuits and he needs to regain his composure before he continues, and he still doesn’t sound entirely sure of what you just said lol

He also just outright admits he initially thought you must be wicked just because the brothers liked you, and this is a guy who is still fond of them himself. I think he’s having a very hard time with it.

So the inevitable bumps in the roads ahead with him will likely be a result of this, and/or his dad being an asshole. Neither he or Diavolo are actually in charge of the realms they’re overseeing -- they’re both de facto leaders -- so maybe the parents will suddenly barge in and try to knock over their sand castles for whatever reason. It is kind of weird that the exchange program has been agreed to in the first place, particularly on the Celestial Realm’s part.

Regardless, I have no clue what the next arc will be. I know we still have three trials left, but they could combine two again to leave more room for the actual storyline to progress. The climax is going to be the last trial of our sorcerer’s exam, or something happening afterwards. Not sure which one I’m willing to bet on yet: I remember Simeon’s play and the silly Blood Moon contest in Season 2 were what kept use preoccupied for Season 2 until SUDDENLY LUCIFER GETS AMNESIA AND THE WORLD IS IN DANGER AND WE HAVE TO STAB HIM TO SAVE EVERYONE. But they did heavily foreshadow that in the very beginning lol. They just didn’t fill in the blanks until much later.

I wonder what the trial of chastity is gonna be like and how hard we’ll actually fail and the game will need to overcompensate for that

#obey me #obey me!#obey me lesson 52 #obey me spoilers #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me michael #obey me barbatos #analysis #obey me lesson 53 #obey me season 3

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scorsoneamelia · 3 years

Note

You may be able to write sth about link being sick or sth about then having a second child or amelia and link doing a research together

omg omg ok i like this!! it’s taken me a while to write because i’ve been out of town and i miss amelink :((( FLUFFY AMELINK!!! this sucks and i’ve been editing it for days but fluffy link isn’t my strongest pieces but i’m planning on doing better send me more inspiration too because writers block lmao also im so sorry it wouldn’t let me add a Keep Reading thingy so sorry that this takes up ur feed :( Most would agree that Autumn was the best season of the year, trees changing colours from yellows to oranges before shredding their leaves onto the grass. People wearing sweaters and hoodies, tea and hot chocolate in their hands. Fall gave you a warm feeling, a season that everyone couldn’t wait for. It was October 31st--- Halloween. The evening was cool, a crisp breeze that was enough to make you want to wrap a blanket around yourself and drink a warm cup of hot chocolate. It wasn’t freezing out there, but it was definitely cool. The house was decorated with Halloween decorations; inside and outside. Link went all out this year, buying as many Halloween products he could get his hands onto. The entire front yard, and front of the house had skeletons, witches, spiders, spider webs, ghosts; literally everything and anything. He had spent an entire day climbing onto the roof, even using ladders to get up higher onto the trees and roof of the house so that he could make the house look as scary as possible. Amelia never got a decision in a Halloween costume for Scout, Link just showed up with a pumpkin costume and insisted that it was the costume. Zola went as a doctor; neurosurgeon she specified. “Just like my dad.” It wasn’t even a tough choice for her, it was the first costume in mind and that’s what she wanted to go as all year. Bailey was a superhero---Spiderman. And Ellis; a princess. They all had the day off, all planning to go trick or treating with the kids-- at least that was the plan. “It’s okay, just go.” Link insisted, he was curled up onto the couch, two thick blankets covering his body and he was sweating. “I’m not letting this be the reason you miss Scout’s first Halloween.” Link came down with a flu the night before, a slight fever and nausea. Although he’d never admit it, he was a baby and as much as he wanted Amelia to stay home with him, he’d never tell her that. The wood burning in the fireplace was cracking, hot chocolate was being made, Halloween movies were playing on the television; a perfect night. Perfect aside from the fact Link was literally shivering while also having beads of sweat running down his forehead. “Link,” Amelia started. “You’re sick.” “I’ll bring Scout out with us,” Meredith offered. “He’ll be back in an hour.” She stood at the front door, Scout already in his pumpkin costume in a secure stroller, Zola with a pillow case slung over her shoulder because she wanted to get as much candy as she could. Bailey already had one foot out of the door and Ellis’ hand was gripped onto Maggie’s and she was jumping on the balls of her feet. “Can we go now? Can we go now?” Ellis begged, only tugging on Maggie’s hand towards the door. Amelia turned to Link, gave him a what should I do? face. She didn’t want to leave Link at the house by himself, and she most definitely didn’t want to miss Scout in a cute pumpkin costume on his first Halloween. “Okay, wait,” Amelia reached for her cellphone, pulling open the camera app before making her way over to Scout. “I need pictures before you go.” His head was slightly titled to the side, his cheeks chubby and he was sleeping. A drop of drool sitting in the crease of his cheeks, and Amelia’s heart melted. “You guys already have so many pictures.” Maggie laughed, remembering the night Link bought the costume and raced to put it on Scout to see if it fit, and when it was a perfect fit Link was taking hundreds of pictures and videos. “There’s never enough pictures.” The smile on Amelia’s face was genuine, it reached her eyes, you could see the happiness in her blue eyes and she just loved him so much. She can’t remember the last time she was this happy, or when the last time she was living such a perfect moment. “Let’s go! Can we go?” Bailey begged now, already grabbing onto the door knob and twisting it open. Zola followed, adjusting the fake stethoscope around her neck. Before Meredith could push Scout’s stroller through the front door, Amelia was leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on her sons face. “Have fun, baby. Daddy and I love you so much.” Scout was still asleep, and the other kids were already out of the front door before Maggie was pulling it shut, giving Amelia a wave before it was just the two of them. “You know you could have went with them.” Link said, his voice hoarse from getting sick and emptying out his stomach from earlier in the day. “I can take care of myself.” He was pulling the blanket up higher onto his body, as if the house was freezing even though it was warm, the fire burning in the fireplace. “I’ll make you some tea,” she ignored his request. “Or would you rather hot chocolate?” She was already in the kitchen and before Link could answer she was pouring him a warm tea. Minutes later she was making her way back, a hot chocolate for herself in one hand and a tea in the other. The Nightmare Before Christmas was playing on the television, a movie Zola picked for her and Uncle Link to watch while she was waiting for her siblings to get ready. Amelia was already sitting down on the couch beside Link, passing him his tea. “Thank you,” he said softly and wrapping his hands around the warm cup. “Amelia, you really didn’t have to stay.” “Well, it’s too late now. I’m here, I’m staying and we’ll watch movies, and hand out candy to trick or treaters,” she grabbed onto the end of the blanket Link was using to cover her legs up with it. “All while you rest. Sleep---get better.” “Well, some cuddles from you might just do the trick.” And Link was resting his head in her lap, the blanket covering both of them while Amelia’s hands were running through his sandy blonde hair, in hopes to relax him. The movie was only playing for ten minutes before she heard a soft snore come out of Link’s mouth, Amelia’s fingers still weaving through his hair, and he was sleeping. That was the goal, he needed to sleep. A new baby doesn’t exactly give them the most time throughout the night to get a full night’s rest, and Link being sick wasn’t helping. So she was going to let him sleep, even though she won’t be moving up from this spot on the couch until he wakes, and she didn’t really mind. The popping off the fireplace, the television on, kids laughter coming from the streets, Link snoring softly in her lap, and Scout was cute. These are the moments people lived for, these moments--- are the reasons she’s happy that she’s sober and that she’s happy she’s alive.

#amelink #amelia shepherd #greysanatomyfics #amelia #ameliafics #link x #amelia x link #atticus link #amelinkfics #stories

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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years

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I really like/agree with the changes you’ve made so far to AoC. One thing I’d personally want to change is Impa’s intro cutscene. It seems very odd to me that the first thing we see is her crying out for help bc a small group of Bokoblins were after her, but then the game IMMEDIATELY turns around and shows that she’s a strong warrior, both through gameplay and the king’s dialogue about her being able to take care of herself. (1/2, sorry this is a little long!! I hope you don’t mind!)

Anonymous said to botwstoriesandsuch:

(2/2) Not to mention Impa is labeled as “Royal Advisor”, but other than giving Zelda encouragement she never advises anyone on anything (as far as I remember.) As much as I love her humorous scenes I wish we saw more of her as an advisor and strong warrior. I’d love to know what you think, though! Maybe I’m thinking of things all wrong? Hopefully this doesn’t come across as Impa hate bc I really like her and her character! I just wish Nintendo did more with her, you know?

- - - - - -

Oh you’re absolutely right! I actually completely forgot about Impa’s introduction because of how forgettable it was...lmao. So yeah! Like you said that introduction completely contradicts how she’s characterized for the rest of the game...which is probably why I had nearly erased it from my memory, since it really serves no importance to her.

I actually have some plans for Impa’s little “Advisor” title, although it’s nothing too major, I might rework something to make her a bit more important as I guess I’ve mainly been too focused on rewriting the Champs and counterparts but I think I can actually play with that title to give her a more memorable introduction for the game.

So I’m just spitballing here, but only significant part of Impa’s intro that we need to keep intact is that she needs be in possession of the Sheikah Slate, and somehow lead into the activation of eggbot. We don’t want her to clumsily trip and drop it because Impa is supposed to be physically capable, with her flaws being in her slight hot-headedness, or I guess the better word is impulsiveness? She confident to a fault, absolutely loyal to Zelda as both a friend and an advisor who supports her, and she’s got that cute sister foil dynamic with Impa. She’s also got a bit of humoristic air to her. So! Let’s a go and introduce her.

Link is running through the garrisons, sword at the ready, he’s running around looking for monsters. He hears a commotion to his right, and spots a building. Inside, he can already see bokoblins making their way inside. He follows.

The building he walks into is a storage place for Guardians, because of course there is! Like this is a war they’re fighting, and the entire point of the Guardians was that they were part of their arsenal, so I’m surprised that their precesne is better established at these forts and stuff. Anyhow, Link kills a bokoblin and steps inside, following the sound of grunting. Turning the corner he see, Impa, by the backdoor.

Currently, she’s trying to bash a bokoblin’s head with a Sheikah Slate. As she is standing on a table with the monster grabbing at her leg, a few other surrounding her. “Let! Go! You!” Her words in time with her bonking it on the head. She suddenly spots Link. “Hey you! Can you hold this for a sec?” She tosses the Slate, and Link fumbles a bit as he catches it.

“Don’t break it now! Princess’ orders.” Impa yells. With her hands less full, she does the little hand finger motion thing and summons her clones. She then unsheathes her sword, and along with her clones, she instantly kills off the group of bokoblins in the room. As they crumple to the ground, she bounces off the table and turns towards Link with a smile.

Thanks for the hand, I’ll take that back now please. As the monsters behind her vanish into malice, and her clones do the hand thing and disappear, that’s when her title comes up.

Before Link has a chance to react and give it back, the Guardians in the room suddenly buzz and whirr. Impa frowns a bit.

“Ummm, ok? I’m no expert but I don’t think that’s supposed to happen.” Link looks around, the room they’re in is littered in Guardian parts and Sheikah tech. Suddenly, under a table, he spots something white and shiny, much unlike the other stuff in the room.

Impa is still staring curiously at the awakened Guardian, meanwhile Link crouches down under the table to look at the mysterious object. It’s eggbot. He reaches out to pick it up, Sheikah Slate still in hand. But as he does, the whole room suddenly lights up in blue light.

“What the?!” Impa and Link and both startled, and the ground begins to rumble.

Impa gives a quick nod towards the back door. “Come on! We need to get out of here.”

Back outside, the ground is still rumbling, but similar to the actual cutscene, a group of bokoblins approach them. Impa steels herself and readies her weapon along with Link. But before they can fight, the Sheikah Tower rises up.

Then that’s the same as the original scene, where they both look up in shock. Link then turns around, and back by the building they just came out of, he sees a little Terrako walking around. It patters around by the back doors entrance, but when it sees Link, it gives a cute little jump of excitement and runs towards him. Maybe it can knock him to the ground like a puppy or something. Impa can look at him weirdly like “wtf”

And that’s my change! Impa gets a badass moment, we got a few dialogue pieces that show her respect for Zelda and her lack of knowledge about Guardians. And ALSO, I give a more reasonable explanation for eggbots presence. You ever notice how eggbot is just randomly lying in the field deactivated? Even though his time teleport thing clearly took place at the Castle? Yeah well here, eggbot is in storage with other Guardian parts. So it’s a wordless explanation that you can just fill in the blank spots in your head. Like some research found it lying around, and just shoved it with the other Ancient Technology.

And that’s my take on her introduction! It serves multiple purposes besides just introducing her, as it more fleshes out some plot details and keeps some action and momentum. Plus it’s a bit light hearted and funny, but not as the cost of making her look weak and helpless. Hopefully you think it’s ok D:

#Hwaoc: The Kip Cut #hwaoc spoilers #impa hwaoc #impa #long post

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

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• JENIFER “JEN” MARLOWE •

IG Info/bio: @/justjenw1n | 220k followers | Fashion | just a LUVer who owns a lovely blog that you’re more than welcome to check out here... astoldbyjenmarlowe.co.uk 🪞🛍🪄

22 (24) (25 in 2021) years of age

From London, England

Her family has French origins

Tends to visit once a year mainly with her family

For her 18th bday, her parents also sent her to Paris with her bf that she’s been dating since she was 14

they broke up since he wanted to stay in Paris to pursue his dreams and she felt like she needed to be back home...which she felt Paris was not

Extremely close to her parents, some may say a little TOO close...

See, I feel like jen comes from a family that spoils her where her parents did everything and took care of everything for her. She had the privilege and didn’t have to work too hard to get things she wanted so that made her a little bit different than a few of her friends, hell—even her bf

Didn’t have to work until she reached her twenties

She also didn’t have too many friends because her parents felt like her cousins and/or her sibs were really only allowed to hold that title

However her parents had some sort of a soft spot for her when they allowed her to date her bf at 14 since he came from a nice background...

And to have at least 1-2 best friends...

I can’t decide if I see her having 3 other sibs with her being the second eldest, or her being the eldest with a younger sister? I can also see her being a only child too? Idk y’all can decide

Because her family is a tight knit one, she values everything they say and do...which is canon/evident

She got her thigh tattoo in Paris and even thought about asking her parents permission but her bf talked her out of it

she later showed them that night while he was in the shower. Her mother openly disapproved saying it was, “unladylike or unclean” while her father was more lenient towards it

Her mother even scheduled her for laser appointments but this was one of the things jen was sure of, she loved her tattoo and she didn’t want to erase it from her body which led to her mother not speaking to her for about a month—even tho they live in the same household

I feel like she looks more like her dad with her mom’s hair and smile

Got into fashion due to her maternal grandmother who seemed to live a extravagant life as a old time actress, she always had and owned the finest of things

Jen loved having sleepovers there, it felt like she had her own personal Liz Taylor inside of her nan...but better!

Definitely found inspiration through Liz Taylor, Kate Moss, Victoria Beckham, and Naomi Campbell

she had no clue what she wanted to do in life (she never had to think too hard about it until now, it’s true what they say about your twenties) and she made the choice not to continue thru with uni & I’m not going to make her out to be the stereotypical “dumb blonde” I think she did well in school—so she kinda just chilled after it was all over

Her first job at 20 was probably working in retail where she learned all about the bs you put up with but she loved clothes! That never changed

So she decided 6 months into her job that she was going to make a fashion blog

she made one separate from her tumblr but kept it under construction since she needed to brain storm what exactly this blog would entail

It didn’t take too long to her to figure it out by how she wanted the blog to look then discussing pieces from celebs/models then slowly discussing her own wardrobe + advice

She didn’t immediately gain success for it —altho she did have a good 1k people follow her thru her tumblr where she also provided the link to her separate blog... but she worked/works hard at it, hoping one day it’ll get her somewhere and that maybe she can get paid for it too?

Retail fucking sucks and people are horrible twats so when she was approaching 21 she deff quit with her parents still hammering...more so her dad on what she needs to do with her life but she found happiness in her blog and no one was going to take that away from her —not even her parents

‘What’s the use of working if it doesn’t make you happy?’ She thinks but again! she has the privilege of living under her parents roof and not having to pay bills so she didn’t have to worry too much rn she knows they’d never kick her out right?

she has two bunnies named “bugsy” and “Lola”—u know the reference right?

I feel like she values the flinstones & jetsons because it was something her dad loved watching as a kid and still does , probably has the dvds showcased in her room that she watches when she feels sad

Seems like a smiley person but when she’s sad? It kinda sucks to see cause she turns into a whole different person and she always seems happy with a smile so wide that turns her eyes squinty

If she disagrees with something, she’s 100% giving her opinion whether you like it or not? Wrong is wrong. But when the shoe is on the other foot? She hates being wrong LOL or doesn’t view herself being wrong. Doesn’t take accountability well...at all!

She’s also showed her ass by being a gossiper and fake as hell with Allegra about mc with the whole, “let’s pretend like we’re there for her” if you’re not fucking with somebody just say that or SHOW it sis cause that snakey shit will come back to bite you in the ass (I forgot about this lol as I’m replaying)

she’s all “mega resting bitch face” until she breaks out into a large smile

Libra sun? + Virgo moon? + Gemini rising?

I feel like she only knows what she wants when it comes to relationships but not with the rest of life?

Lol she was very determined with levi in the beginning, explored shit with jake, (I can’t remember if that was after you/mc showed a interest in him or not in that route? I’m doing a talia/Rohan route rn But that’s kinda foul if she’s smiling in ur face and then boom goes and does what she wants but hey that’s the game right? Fck that tho) and then stood by Tim after only some time?

She wasn’t feeling him in the beginning either cause he thought she was too posh for him and snakey which he’s right to some degree but she’s also right if she finds him too immature for her liking

To you jim? Ten? Stans— Idk what their ship name is but it probably wouldn’t have worked out in the long run either because I don’t see both of them wanting to change themselves completely to satisfy the other. (Tim tried) Sure if you’re showing unhealthy behaviors and are open to diminishing that for yourself then trying to work on your relationship then that’s great! But they already started from the jump not liking each other’s personalities/characteristics....

And hey! Ofc I know people grow to like things they might have disliked about you in the beginning but you can also find yourself not fully accepting it in a relationship and that doesn’t mean you didn’t try

+ it’s been hinted at that they’re not endgame & if you love yourself some Tim not platonically then this works in ur favor. if not? Then you can keep them endgame by all means! For me? That endgame shit is a no! For those that don’t gaf about either of them that’s fine too lmao

YES I feel like they were both hurt over the breakup and it probably happened right around the holidays or either a couple of months after Christmas/New Years 2019

Jen is probably the type to keep checking up on her ex, not necessarily talking to them but finding out who they’re with now

and if it’s Tim with mc she’s definitely gossiping about the shit with erikah and Allegra or making shady tweets or posts on IG for sure

“5 outfits to wear when you run into your ex” type posts on her blog looool

She hopes if she runs into Tim, she’s looking her best and she would 80% go up to him & mc/his new girl if not mc and be all huggy with him and holding conversation before she even thinks to acknowledge mc/new girl and when she does it’s a shady convo with fake smiles

Absolutely loves watching housewives so she was prepared for that moment if it ever does come

Her parents openly didn’t like Tim which made him feel like shit since it seemed like jen never defended him in front of them but again, she values her parents opinion and always wants their stamp of approval that’s just the way the girl is/ was brought up

She owes them everything but deep down knows that in her relationship with Tim she could have been a little more understanding of his needs like he was with her love for her parents...but she’ll never admit that

Doesn’t get over breakups as easily as it may seem like her exes do in her opinion.

It sure didn’t take long with Tim to date mc/new girl months after they broke up! Which was like a slap in the face

The ex bf she spent time w in Paris who looks like Matthew Noszka is now engaged, lives in AMERICA—& of all places??? California to be exact, and just released his debut album!! She knows which songs are probably about her, it’s a nice album she screamed about it for hours into her pillow and cried for what felt like weeks

Lost her voice over that breakdown too

Her mother even went as far as sending a nasty letter to this ex bf’s new address...since ya know? jen’s dad is a private investigator & all!!! but dad had no knowledge of this being done

She’s still fond of Levi and jake but not like in love with them? Like she thought/felt she was with Tim but she still considers them her mates

Maybe in 2021 she’ll be open to dating again and hopes erikah and Allegra will be her wingwomen when the time comes BUT she’s focusing on her blog rn and it’s the best it’s ever been!

She had the show to thank for that now that she has a manager and is getting paid for running her blog now! That’s right this girl is officially employed!

“At least one good thing came from the show ;) 🧽🥐🥂” type of tweets

There’s never not a moment where she’s not connecting her posts whether thru ig or Twitter to her blog: astoldbyjenmarlowe.co.uk!!!

Both erikah and Allegra talk a little shit about that together...WHEN they DO talk, the pair only really socialize when jen initiates it but if one pisses the other off?? they’re going to gossip about it with the other forsure

She doesn’t look that tall to me? Taller than erikah? 5’2-5’5 the 5 is pushing it for me? Maybe? lol I’m still deciding between her and Allegra far as height and I’m too lazy to go back and see what I put for her

Hates straightening her hair, that pin straight look is not cute to her. She loves having waves and body to her hair

Get her eyebrows micro bladed since she doesn’t have much hair up there to begin with

Adores French cuisine, always has since she was a little girl. Bisque used to be her fav back then and all that she would eat

Loves spring season especially pastel colors when it comes to her wardrobe

The type to say one thing and do the complete opposite

I feel like she probably has a little bit of lisp and it’s not really noticeable until she says some words, she’s insecure about it and thought it had something to do with the structure of her teeth and begged her parents to get them fixed but it literally had nothing to do with them

Yet she still got colorful braces in middle school even tho her teeth were pretty straight. She didn’t have to wear them for a whole year, thank goodness

Went to speech therapy to help

Has stacks of fashion magazines even from the early 90s all over her room: her night stand, her vanity, her closet, underneath her bed etc...

Adores the Hadid sisters, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, & Georgia May Jagger

Makes the best white chocolate chip (that’s right, white not just regular chocolate) banana bread but cooking/baking? Isn’t really her thing

Early riser

Loves yellow: yellow phone case, yellow laptop, yellow room, yellow tulips, yellow shades, etc...

Getting Prada shades was probably one of the best things that happened to her, s/o to her nan for granting her this wish

Words of affirmation is her love lanaguage, this girl is a talker and a bit of a thinker too I mean duh? She runs a blog

Likes bright colors on her toes but nude and clear polish on her hands?

Loves a good mascara but she also loves magnetic lashes but is trying her best to grow her lashes out rn! Thanks to erikah for sending her some good ol’ coconut oil!

Smokey eyes? Set her up

Gets a belly ring, and two more tatts one in between her boobs and the last on her ankle & that one she shed a tear over!

Maybe she’ll start changing her physical attributes more so than the way she carries her life at first? (Or ever) She’ll cut her hair below her collarbone to the top of her chest, and maybe she’ll try a light light LIGHT brunette (she loves being a natural blonde) with blonde highlights? Who knows

loves espadrilles and wedge sandals

Loves going wine tasting and visiting vineyards, if she’s vacationing? You can bet ur ass she’s looking for a vineyard to visit

Deff a lightweight

Here’s her unpopular opinions on s2: Thought Felix was a wannabe Tim and hates the fact that he follows her, thought graham was unattractive and said so to Allegra who snickered, thought marisol’s clothing choices were rather boring,

didn’t feel 100% bad for Hannah but disagrees with the way Gary and noah spoke about her + the way Gary tried to slide back over to Hannah on her comeback episode

but doesn’t feel like Lottie is wrong for choosing Gary after Hannah left

isn’t a fan of priya but is glad she’s doing fashion since jen strongly believes in if something isn’t making u happy then u need to let it go

Thinks Hope should have won and cannot tolerate Bobby. Feels he’s WORSE than Felix,

would be open to dating Ibrahim or Carl from that szn

has spoken to Harry from s3 due to his drunkenness and actually made a friend out of him? But low key wants to get to know seb? Take that info as u will 👀

Her anthem: Michelle — SUNRISE

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